


Onward

by findaplacetoloseit



Category: The Shannara Chronicles (TV)
Genre: Eretria needs to be protected, F/F, give Wil a break plz, oh and there's a tree involved, possibly some Bandon/Catania in later chapters, shannara season two, so yeah anyways enjoy, there is some Wil/Eretria and Wil/Amberle but obviously princessrover is endgame, things are happening, trolls and stuff, um idk really what to tag this
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-03
Updated: 2017-11-03
Packaged: 2018-09-21 20:31:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 21,664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9565124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/findaplacetoloseit/pseuds/findaplacetoloseit
Summary: Basically this is my version of season two, told mostly from Eretria's POV with a lot more princessrover than the actual canon version has (*sigh*), and a crap ton of random prophecies and madness and magic and fun stuff like that.Will be a multi-chapter fic! Can't promise to update regularly but will as often as possible :)





	1. do you think rescues are real

**Author's Note:**

> Lol thanks shannara.trilogy for actually making me post this

"Sure you don't want to warm my bed tonight?"

Eretria gritted her teeth. "No, Tye."

"Really?" He purred lecherously. His warm breath lapped at the back of her neck; and although she could've flinched away, it wasn't as if that would dissuade him. The idea of her fighting back aroused him, Eretria knew; the idea appealed to almost everyone she'd seduced. She'd used it to her advantage more times than she could remember.

But she couldn't use it. Not today.

Not with chains still fastened firmly around her wrists.

"I mean, sure, it's not an order or anything," Tye continued. His voice carried a casual lilt, but there was a low, steely undertone to it that reminded Eretria of Cephalo. "Your choice."

His hand dusted teasingly over her hip, fingertips skidding haphazardly across her belt and the over the skin exposed above her waist. Eretria barely repressed a shudder. Back in Utopia his gentle touch had excited her somewhat. Now it only repelled her. Somehow, although Tye was far less rough than some of the other "suitors" she'd had, he somehow made her feel so much more violated.

"Just get the hell away from me," Eretria spat, swinging the pickaxe particularly viciously to shrug him off. The handcuffs around her wrists were heavy and fastened to the wall by rusted chains, but they at least had a good amount of slack. Over time, she'd gotten used to the strain of lifting the many links of metal. Now it came almost naturally to her.

Thankfully, Tye seemed to step back; not that Eretria could actually see him, but there wasn't hot breath ghosting over her neck anymore; so she resumed the monotonous task of chipping away at the cavern wall, ignoring the burn of eyes on her back.

"The trolls are in tonight," Tye stated, after a long moment.

"I know."

"They won't be kind to you."

Eretria didn't falter.

"I know."

There was a short silence, as if Tye was releasing a silent, exasperated breath; which, of course, he was. Eretria added a little more ferocity to her task of hacking away at the wall.

"Eretria," He sighed again, patronisingly, "You've been here for three months. Five days of every week, the trolls are given total authority over the human slaves." She knew. She knew that. "You've been facing that for three months. There's cuts and bruises all over you."

She knew that.

"And your point is?"

"It'd be safer with me," He suggested. "The trolls couldn't get to you."

"They also wouldn't be getting to me if someone hadn't _sold me into their mining complex,"_ Eretria abandoned her task with an undramatic drop of her pickaxe to spin and look at him, seething.

Tye visibly resisted the urge to sigh for a third time, instead levelling her with an imploring, slightly annoyed gaze that he likely had practiced in the mirror many a time back in Utopia; and wow, she really couldn't believe that she'd ever seen him as anything other than a self-pretentious asshole.

"I told you I was sorry," He huffed.

"You lied." Eretria bared her teeth, well aware of and not at all concerned about how savage she must've looked whilst dressed in rags, half-hidden in shadow, and adorned with several layers of sweat, grime, and dried blood. To her annoyance, Tye didn't flinch. "I've met _trolls_ with more regret than you."

Tye raised his hands in mock surrender. She hated him. She hated his self-confidence and his falsely likeable aura, his aggravating habit of twisting around her own words until they sounded all imbecilic and wrong, hated the way he was clean and healthy and arguably handsome and well-fed and not chained up and mining mindlessly in his own muck under the rule of ferocious unmerciful cave trolls who killed for sport, waiting for a rescue that most likely would never come.

"Okay, okay, so if I didn't regret it," He obliged, hands still in the air. His lips curled up into a faint, amused smirk, and she hated him more. "It wouldn't matter, anyway. You threw me to the trolls back at Utopia, so fair's fair, right? It's only vengeance, which, as a rover, I know you understand."

His smirk turned all sly and slippery at the corners.  **"Intimately.** So, you see, there's need to get all..." He paused.

It could have seemed as if he was searching for the right word; but no. Tye was a sucker for dramatics. She imagined just turning around and digging her pickaxe into his stomach, the whole heavy, blunt length of it.

Imagined watching the light die from his eyes. 

"...Aggressive. About this."

"But you _escaped."_ She hissed.

"Only because of some friends in lofty places. You have a few of those, too, as I recall. We're almost equals, Eretria, see? The only difference is, my friends actually remembered me and orchestrated a rescue, while yours..." He delivered the final blow with a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders, "Well, not to be rude or anything, but they're most likely off on their honeymoon somewhere."

Eretria honest-to-demons actually _snarled,_ and Tye blinked. He lowered his hands. "Whoa. Easy. Don't want me to tell the trolls you've been disrespectful to your human master, right?"

And there was the reason why her pickaxe wasn't currently drenched in blood. Eretria opened her mouth to retort, blood boiling in her veins; but, after a brief hesitation, shut it again.

Tye let his smirk drop, but a triumphant glint lingered on in his eye.

(He never would've pulled a threat on her like that back in Utopia; let alone taken pleasure in it; but he'd changed since then.)

(They both had.)

Luckily he said nothing more, and Eretria snatched up the pickaxe and returned to chipping away at the wall before her own sheer frustration could overwhelm her.

The first time she'd let it overwhelm her, it hadn't been pretty. Not the second time, either. Nor the third. The trolls had been called upon, of course, and Eretria had received wounds across her back, her shoulders, her throat, her calves, and who knows where else, that would most definitely scar. Scars would last her probably the rest of her life.

 _One day,_ she thought to herself, _one day, Amberle and Wil will find me again, and I'll tell them how I got these scars._

The thought wasn't angry. Nor bitter. Not even a little vicious. If anything, it seemed a little...wistful. She'd learned (after a long, long while chained to a cave wall to work through her emotions) that it wasn't much use to hate them for not coming back for her. Hatred had most definitely gnawed painfully at her insides for weeks, as had fear and fury and a horrible sense of betrayal; and so eventually, to avoid further pain, she had simply accepted it. They obviously both had wagonloads of duties that were expected of them, after saving the world (she'd assumed that the world was saved because a demon wasn't ripping her apart as she worked) and besides,

_she was only a rover._

Now the prophecy was fufilled, she wasn't needed anymore. Being a child of the Armegeddon didn't make her special. Well, at least not special enough to be worth coming back for, anyway.

(No matter how much she longed that it did.)

But Eretria could dream. So she dreamt, and she wanted, and she wished. Many a night, in the scarce five hours allocated for her sleeping time, left alone in the cave on an uneven slab of rock she guessed the trolls counted as a bed, she had stared up at the cave ceiling. In that freezing, solitary silence, she had allowed herself to dream.

She'd dreamt of heroes, and heroines. Princesses, half-elves; and wonderful, adrenaline-fuelled chaos, daring escapades and ferocious battles, driving a knife through that one troll's chest; vicious, bloody revenge for the hellish past months Tye had put her through; and even all those stupid sappy things Eretria had never let herself think about before, like reunions, and happy tears, and the taste of desperate lips against her own.

(Whose lips, she couldn't be sure. It didn't even seem to matter anymore. Her feelings for Wil and Amberle were both so strong and so confused, so tangled up and intertwined with each other, that after a while she'd given up trying to figure them out.)

Hell, if the pair actually turned up, Eretria reckoned she might kiss them both.

So, yeah. Amberle and Wil had turned her into an idiot. A stubborn, abandoned, kind of lovesick idiot with hundreds of barely-closed scars all over her and countless dried tear tracks half-hidden under layers of dirt and cave dust and too many stupid far-fetched dreams that only let her down, over and over again, every time she woke up and faced her reality and the fact that Wil and Amberle were not, in fact, ever coming back for her.

"Last offer," Tye said. Eretria blinked. The methodical chops of her pickaxe had slowed significantly as she'd drifted into thought, and she hastily increased the speed. Luckily, the guy didn't seem to have noticed.

"Last offer." Tye repeated, more forcefully. She heard the telltale movements of his frustrated pacing behind her. "Come away with me, Eretria. I'll take off the chains, and you can have some hot food and maybe a shower, and then rest. You won't be forced to do anything you don't want to do."

He was only half-lying. Eretria was now familiar with Tye's wily ways.

(The first few weeks of her slavery/imprisonment, she'd attempted to seduce her way to freedom. Unfortunately, his time with the trolls had hardened him to such things, and short of giving Tye exactly what he wanted without any gain for herself, there was next to nothing Eretria could actually do.)

Anyway, she'd been a slave her entire life. The words _you don't have to do anything you don't want to do_ held absolutely no truth nor significance to her, and most likely never would.

"Eretria?" Tye prodded.

She turned her head to look at him and was met with a pleading expression; open and innocent, with perhaps a touch of insecurity. On his naturally-good looking features, a stranger, or a troll, or even a close friend could easily have fallen for it.

But Eretria knew it was all a lie. She'd seen him turn savage before; seen his snarl of fury, seen his behaviour turn feral, seen the horrible, satisfied glitter of his eyes as he watched her bleed. In that way, she guessed she knew him better than most people.

Isn't there a saying somewhere that you know your enemies better than you do your friends?

But there was a vulnerable sincerity in Tye's eyes, some of the time, that was hard to fake. Eretria knew he cared about her, in his own lusty, idealistic, infatuated way. It would've been the smart option to accept his offer. Even after everything Eretria had done to him; after everything they'd done to each other; Tye was intelligent enough to be reasonable. He'd get his own pleasure, she might even have a chance to get hers, and just one night away from the fucking trolls and their fucking mines would be great.

But still, every time she felt like surrendering utterly to his wishes, this time and all the other times, something inside her would rebel. Completely and utterly. Without a shadow of a doubt.

 _No,_ the thing inside of her commanded.

_Never._

(Cephalo would call her a lovesick fool.)

And as she had told him every single time that he had offered her the same deal before, Eretria replied,

"I'd rather take the trolls."

And Tye quirked an eyebrow, just as he had every other time before. Stepped back. Relaxed his stance. He watched her for a moment, hand coming up to scratch at his stubble. To Eretria's surprise, he didn't seem to be angry; not even disappointed, like he had last week. Instead, a brief moment of simple, untainted curiosity flashed across his features.

It made him look...younger, somehow.

"You know you're going to have to give this up at some point, right?" He asked her, with surprising softness. Somehow, although his eyes were just as dark as they had been moments before, they now seemed much less intimidating, and more...

confused.

But Eretria, being Eretria, didn't bother to reply.

And, just like that, the usual Tye was back. He stuffed his hands in his pockets, shot her a scowl, and then spun on his heel and exited the small, dark cavern.

Eretria let out a short exhale of breath. The sound of it bounced hollowly off the walls all around her, strikingly loud in the silence. The silence. Silence that would most likely soon be filled with the grunts and groans of the cave trolls, the crack of the big, particularly mean one's whip, and then, inevitably, the subsequent noises of her own pain. Maybe the pain of the other captured humans along the tunnel beside her cavern, too. There were humans nearby that she'd never actually seen, but whose screams she was intimately familiar with.

 _If you're ever coming back, you've gotta hurry the fuck up,_ she thought to Amberle and Wil, a little desperately, a little fruitlessly, doggedly resuming her task despite the fiery ache in her muscles and bones and veins full of useless Armegeddon blood.

_I don't know how much longer I can last._

___

The next morning went about as well as expected.

Which was, obviously, not great.

The trolls were...brutal. (As always). Since she'd woken up, Eretria had been shoved into the wall about four times, roared at for not working fast enough on about seven occasions, and the still-closing whip wounds on the skin of her back, inflicted a few days before, had been reopened. Eretria kept her head down, and resisted the urge to scream as best she could. It was all she could do.

When the break for lunch (or whatever the trolls' equivalent of it was) came, her supervisor for the day trudged out of the cavern, tossing her a warning glare which could roughly be translated as _stop working and I'll have your head on a stick._ Eretria didn't speak troll, but she'd gotten pretty good at understanding their intentions throughout the past three months.

As he left, she allowed herself to focus on the wall in front of her. Without the troll to distract her, grunting and stamping whenever it looked like she was tiring, mining was a lot more peaceful. Eretria lost herself in the rhythm of it; swing the pickaxe, let it bite into the rock, then inspect, wiggle, tug and tug and tug- and then step back to avoid the resulting flood of dust and minerals. Gather all the broken pieces she could, and deposit them into the minecart at her feet. Start over.

Swing, bite, wiggle, pull. Step back, gather, deposit, and swing.

She didn't know why the troll needed to supervise her all the time, anyway. It was a menial task, slow and mindless, and it wasn't as if she could escape. There were literal chains around her wrist and ankles.

Swing, bite, wiggle, pull. Eretria paused to push a sweat-soaked strand of hair out of her face. She caught a glimpse of her hand on the way back down; it was blistered, calloused, layers of dirt stuck underneath her nails and encrusted in the lines on her palms. There was blood, too, but mostly brown and dried and flaking, exuding a distinctly metallic scent. Eretria was familiar with the way it blended in with the dirt; like her blood belonged to the grime of the underground.

Sick irony, really. She'd always wanted to belong somewhere.

Step back, gather. Deposit. Repeat.

Even if she did somehow manage to unlock the chains, she wouldn't get far. There were trolls all throughout the complex, each capable of taking down three humans with each blow; and she'd be weak, stumbling over her own feet, exhausted and malnourished, the usual sharp edge of her cunning dulled significantly by months of slavery.

Swing, bite. Wiggle.

Eretria didn't like being weak. Never did, never would.

Pull. Step back.

But here, she was the weakest of the weak. The lowest of the low.

Deposit.

A slave. A prisoner. Just a-

"-Rover!"

Eretria's head whipped around. Her eyes darted across the walls, the ceiling, the floor, the opening to the tunnel on the opposite side of the room.

She knew that voice.

_She knew that voice._

"Have you seen a rover?" The voice called again, closer this time, "A girl rover. Dark hair, dark eyes, weird tattoo the back of her shoulder? Annoyed expression?"

There were murmurs down the tunnel that she couldn't make out; possibly, the answers of the other slaves. Or simply noises of wonder. It'd been a long time since any of them had heard the voice of a newcomer, let alone such a loudspoken one.

Judging by the sound of the footsteps approaching, it seemed like they were unaccompanied. As if there were no troll with them, no guard, no rattling clank of chains.

Only footsteps, swift and hurried. Purposeful.

And a familiar voice, low, desperate, asking, _"Have you seen a girl named Eretria?"_

(She couldn't breathe.)

And then Wil stepped into the cave, hair freshly-washed and cut but otherwise looking almost exactly as she remembered him; and, for the first time in three months, Eretria felt like she could breathe properly again.

Their eyes met.

"Took you long enough," Eretria told him shakily.

And then Wil was hugging her, arms tight and fierce, tears wet against her neck, and he was warm and solid and human (well, sort of) and Eretria hadn't been touched by someone who truly cared for her in what seemed like an age and Wil had come back for her and all she could do was hug him back, ignoring her injuries, letting her pickaxe fall, feeling the rest of the world slip away.

"I'm so sorry I didn't get here sooner," He cried.

By way of reply, Eretria hugged one of her only friends in the world a little tighter. All of a sudden she felt very small and fragile. Childlike, even.

(Two children, hugging on a cave floor.)

(Silent.)

Until something occurred to her.

Something was missing. Or...someone.

(There should be more footsteps in the passage; there should be another gaze meeting hers; should be another pair of arms embracing her, another familiar voice whispering apologies in her ear.)

"Wil," She said. He didn't respond. "Wil, where's-"

And then, out in the passage, a troll roared.

In a flash, Eretria pushed Wil off of her. He blinked dazedly, like he was waking up from a dream.

"Chains," She hissed, gesturing.

"Oh." Wil bit his lip contemplatively, "Uh, I don't suppose you'd have any idea how to get those off, would you?"

_"You don't have a key?"_

"No?"

And then the telltale roars of a troll came thundering down the passage.

"Anyone ever tell you you're a _fucking idiot?"_

"Well, uh, I think-" And then her supervisor troll burst into the cave, and Wil turned just in time, fumbling with a dagger she hadn't seen before. The troll surged forward to meet him lips twisting into an enraged snarl. Eretria lunged at it, hoping to distract it and defend the elven boy somehow because from what she remembered Wil couldn't fight for shit, but then her chains tugged sharply at her feet and she fell heavily onto her pickaxe, upending the minecart.

An avalanche of jagged rock came spilling out of the cart and across the floor. One of the bigger pieces bounced haphazardly across the uneven floor and, as luck would have it, caught on the heel of the troll's boot.

"AGHEHAAGAHH!!" The troll roared (or something close to that, anyway) as it fell.

And damnit, the troll was- it was falling on-

 _"Eretria!"_ Wil shouted, as she nearly buckled under the weight of a very large, very dangerous, very much alive and hungry troll. Its teeth gnashed inches from her face, breath hot and horrible in her nostrils, and not even her sharp, malnourished elbows and the rusted handcuffs digging into its chest could stop the troll from leaning momentarily forward, saliva gathering quickly in its massive, jagged maw as its extremly small brain and insatiable hunting instinct decided that maybe the untimely loss of just one slave wouldn't hurt...

"Wil!" The troll's jaw unhinged as it neared her face. She struggled wildly, uselessly. "Wil, right now would be a great time to, I don't know, _do something!"_

And then the troll stopped, teeth just grazing the underside of her chin. Its beady eyes widened. It let out a feeble, spluttered whine.

And then, without any further ceremony, the supervisor troll sank to its knees, grabbing at the slave who at once staggered hastily out of its grasp, and at the small dagger buried to the hilt between its shoulder blades, and, in its place, stood Wil. One hand fisted and bloodied, half-immersed in cave shadow, mouth twisted into a savage snarl.

Watching.

Muttering something undoubtedly vicious under his breath.

Eretria watched him as he watched the troll die. Last time she'd witnessed him encounter a troll, he'd been wide-eyed and clueless, drenched in river water, gagging at the sight of the troll's most recent meal. Just a farm boy. Just an innocent.

Now, another troll's claws scrabbled for purchase in the blood-soaked dirt, and pitiful whimpers that could roughly be translated as noises of utter agony racked its body, and Wil the once-innocent farm boy watched, snarling.

  
"He's got the keys," The boy finally said, once the troll had stopped convulsing. Kicked it once, for good measure. He bent to snatch the said object from the troll's hip, and reached out to hand them to Eretria, snarl smoothing out a little as his eyes locked onto hers again. "You can unlock them yourself?"

She nodded.

Three months is enough to transform a person. She hadn't expected Wil to be any less the innocent, complacent guy she'd fallen for, but then if he'd learned how to defend himself; and even how to be a little savage while doing it; she supposed she wasn't one to judge.

 _Maybe we'll make a rover out of him yet,_ she wondered spontaneously (absently?), and then shuddered at the Cephalo-like thought, fingers trembling on the key. _Wil Ohlmsford as a rover? No fucking way._

"There has to be other trolls somewhere, they'll come after us," Wil said, more to himself than her, the uncharacteristic ferality of him a few moments ago dropping from his persona in the action of an uncrinkling brow and softening eyes, as the chains that had held Eretria captive for so long tumbled gracelessly to the ground. Her wrists and ankles were all pale, withered skin, streaked with scarlet and black. "You can walk, right? Tell me you can walk."

"I can walk," Eretria hissed, with a little more bite than intended. She shoved his fluttering hands away, and took one shaky step forward, over her fallen pickaxe. "Lead the way, Short Tips."

It took some hesitation, but in the end the threat of the trolls won out, and the pair hurried out of the cave and down the hallway, dodging the flailing hands of other slaves as they reached out from behind various, roughly-hewn earthen bars. Eretria was actually kind of impressed by how well Wil resisted the urge to help the other imprisoned humans; despite their terrible, pleading cries that even her rover-hardened heart couldn't help but shrink and soften a little at, the half-elf's face remained utterly stoic, and his stride steady.

(His stride steady...but a little slower than usual. Slow enough to allow Eretria's weak, stumbling bare feet to keep up with his strong, shoe-clad ones.)

(She pretended not to notice.)

After five minutes of wary speed-walking, in which they had miraculously encountered no other trolls, and after which Eretria was definitely not winded, they arrived at a sharply sloped mess of massive, tumbled boulders. It looked as if one of the walls had caved in, and none of the trolls had been bothered to fix it. Torchlight flickered weakly over the uneven cracks and crevices of the rocks, and glittered sharply in the worried glance Wil flashed her.

"We have to climb." Wil Olhmsford, forever the supplier of the obvious.

Eretria gritted her teeth, and reached to grab the nearest handhold. Beside her, watching her every move, Wil did the same.

To her irritation, Eretria didn't last long.

She ended up clinging to Wil's back, legs wrapped around his waist, arms locked in a position that was probably a little too tight to be comfortable around his neck. Even though Wil clearly had the tougher job, Eretria found her muscles shrieking long from the effort of hanging on, long before they reached the exit.

 _Three months,_ she thought bitterly, her forehead all screwed up from where it was pressing hard against Wil's shifting, straining shoulder blades. _Just three_ _months, and I've been turned into a useless, trembling wreck._

Eventually, just as the telltale noises of trolls returning from their break started off in the distance, Wil shifted a loose rock near the highest left corner of the cave-in, helped Eretria through the narrow gap behind it, and collapsed with her into the thick underbrush of the outside world, gasping and panting in loud, ragged bursts.

"We did it," Wil forced out, letting Eretria roll off of him, blinking and spluttering furiously in the too-bright, clean-edged air. "Wow, I mean, we actually did it."

"No shit," Eretria choked. With the sudden addition of late morning sunlight that she hadn't had a single glimpse of in the past three months, she could see the long smears of dirt and blood that her body had left all over his sweat-smudged shirt. It was bad enough in the half-lit caves, but in daylight, she probably looked like absolute shit. She guessed it was a good thing she didn't have anybody to impress. "Didn't have to use your Elfstones once."

"Elfstones only work against demons," Wil reminded her. "And there are none of those to left to fight, anyway."

It took a moment for her to recognise the weight of those words. An exhausted smile curled weightlessly at the edges of her mouth as her assumptions were confirmed. 

Tye's friends in lofty places could go fuck themselves. _Eretria's_ friends had _saved the world._

"Cause you and Amberle got rid of them all," She said. Her smile grew. His face was turned away from her, cheek pressed into the leaf-scattered ground, so she couldn't see his expression. "Some heroes you must be, right?"

Wil didn't answer.

She nudged him. 

"Right?"

Without warning, Wil pushed himself jerkily up to his knees, and then his feet, little prickling twigs and leaves raining down on Eretria where she lay in the bushes; and then, with sudden, hacking swipes that seemed way more violent than necessary, he began forging his way out. With instincts born from years of brutal childhood lessons, she rolled hastily away from the outburst, letting out a little, strangled yelp as the edge of a root dug suddenly into her tailbone. Then, as fast as she could manage, she struggled after him.

"Wil," She began, "Wil, wait!"

"Camp's this way!" He called over his shoulder, blatantly ignoring her. "The trolls could have patrols out, I'm sure I saw something following me on the way here-"

"Why would they have patrols around a troll slave mine?" Wil broke through the edge of the bushes and strode through the long, twisted grass. Behind him, Eretria floundered. "Nobody would expect anybody to break in. Slaves aren't worth the trouble!"

"You never know, Eretria!"

"Wil!" Eretria yelled, stumbling out of the bush; and then promptly tripping over. She landed on her hands and knees in the tangled grass, the sharp, wild blades of it cutting shallowly into her skin. She tried to get up; and promptly fell over again. She punched the ground in frustration, instantly hissing as pain shot through her knuckles. This was all so stupid. Three months ago she wouldn't have hissed.

"Wil!" She repeated. The crunching footsteps ahead of her just grew more distant. "Wil, I can't-" She was all shaky, and her voice was cracking, and it was so stupid, and she was a rover and the wild, the woods, and the stupid cutting grass was unarguably supposed to be her home turf but- "I can't. I _can't. Walk."_

The footsteps didn't stop.

**They didn't stop.**

_What the fuck,_ Eretria thought, with more than a little bit of terror. _Is_ _he_ _actually-_

A sudden neigh cut off her thoughts. Then there was a distant grunt, the rough whirr of something being untied, maybe a few whispered words, and then a horse was noisily trampling through the grass toward her, Wil leading it forward on foot.

Was he...walking backwards?

"This isn't my old horse, I sent him back off to Shady Vale because my uncle needed him back for ploughing his new fields, but this new girl's learning fast," The half-elf rambled, eyes locked with the horse, nearly tripping over a hidden root as he continued, "It's just she won't be led anywhere unless I'm looking at her the whole time. She must find eye contact comforting, I guess. What do you think?"

Wil trailed off in favour of glancing over his shoulder at Eretria, staring bemusedly up at him from the ground. His jaw dropped comically. "Wait, when did you fall over? Are you okay? Do you need help?"

The rover girl groaned. There, completely and utterly, was the Wil she remembered.

___

It was dark by the time they reached Wil's campsite.

"I made camp in a random spot and scouted around for any sign of you," Wil had explained. "It's what I've been doing for the last few months, if I hadn't rode out so far on a whim I never would've found the mines..."

The rhythm of the the horse's walk and Wil's suprisingly steady riding skills had lulled Eretria into a doze long before he'd finished talking. The guy was sitting right behind her in the saddle, arms settled lightly about her hips to hold the reins, but if he noticed the way her half-concious self slumped against his front, he didn't say anything.

It had been a long time since she'd had proper human contact such as that, but Eretria had found herself too exhausted to really care.

"Eretria..."

"Shut up, Short Tips, I'm sleeping."

"Eretria, we're nearly here."

"Don't care." She grumbled.

"I need to tie up my horse."

"Then do it."

"Eretria, you're _on_ my horse. I can't tie it up with you on top of it."

"Whatever."

Eventually, Wil managed to get her off the horse; The Dagda Mor knows how; and Eretria stood off to the side, rubbing at her eyes, as he tied the animal to a sturdy-looking tree trunk. She thought she caught a the edge of a smile directed at her in the dim light, and, sleepily, she offered one back. It was hard to be miserable when she was safe, and the woods were quiet, and Wil had come back to save her, and she was finally free.

"Thank you," Eretria mumbled, as the two of them stumbled in what was presumably the direction the campsite.

"For what?"

She shoved at him. "For everything, idiot."

He flashed another smile at her.

Idly, she wondered why she hadn't kissed him yet.

 _Because he belongs to someone else,_ her mind instantly supplied. _Because he's Amberle's._

 _But_ _Amberle_ _isn't_ _here,_ she told her brain.

Amberle isn't here.

 _ **Amberle**_ _**isn't**_ _**here.**_

Suddenly she felt very awake.

"Hey, Short Tips," She asked, trying for another shove, "Where's your princess, huh? Too busy with palace duties to help rescue me?"

He froze. Actually froze, like those villains in the stories Cephalo used to tell around the campfire, right before they got killed by the heroic rover. Her shove, intended to be light, nearly toppled him, and she ended up having to grab his forearms to stop him from falling over.

His eyes flickered in the nearby firelight, wide and terrified.

"Wil?" She tried. "Are you okay?"

His throat bobbed as he swallowed. His fingers twitched. Eretria watched him, something rising sickeningly in the pit of her stomach.

"I-I-" He swallowed again. "Eretria, there's something I need to- _Amberle-_ I mean-"

She smirked, forcing down her unease. "Spit it out, Short Tips, we don't have all night."

"Amberle isn't...she's...gone."

Eretria's smirk faded somewhat.

"What?"

He shuffled his feet.

"Amberle's gone." He whispered finally.

For a moment, there was only silence and the crackling of the fire between them.

And then Eretria laughed.

"Nice try. Really thought you could get me with that one, huh?" She gestured pointedly to the thin source of flickering light emanating from Wil's camp. "There's a fire in your camp. I didn't start it, you didn't start it. I'm not stupid."

There was an odd, strained lilt to Wil's voice as he said her name.

_"Eretria..."_

"You're a good actor, I'll give you that," She continued cheerily. Without further ado, she marched through the sparse treeline and into the small clearing where the campsite had been set up, tossing a "But you couldn't fool me!" over her shoulder.

"Eretria, listen!" 

Eretria ignored him. Her eyes ran quickly over everything in the campsite. Searching.

The looming, shadowed trees. The half-visible beaten grass. A little threadbare tent that she guessed had to be Wil's. Another tent; a better one, looking like it had been snatched from Arborlon's stores. ( _Only the best for the princess,_ she thought, a little giddily.) The firelight, glinting off the edge of a sword abandoned carelessly to the left. A dead hare, cooking over the flames in the centre of the campsite. The fire itself, surrounded by a lopsided ring of half-lit river stones.

And a silhouette that Eretria knew the lines and edges of off by heart, standing by the fire with its back to her.

 _"Amberle,"_ Eretria breathed, without even thinking about it; the thought shaping itself involuntarily into a name, and a person, and then she was running forward before the sound had entirely left her mouth, faster than she'd probably ever run before in her life.

"Eretria!" Wil called from behind her. His voice sounded all weird and slow. Heavy, distant.

"Eretria, stop!"

She ran on.

_"Please!"_

She skidded to an (very much not) graceful stop, not two inches from the other girl. Amberle didn't move, but Eretria saw the slow rise and fall of her shoulders and as she breathed and the gentle way the wind rustled through the brown curls of hair at the back of her neck and the gleam of the orange firelight off of her stupid pointy ears and everything about her was so so familiar and, and, and-

"Eretria, please stop- don't-"

Her mouth opened. To tell Amberle something, anything, everything, but then-

_"Eretria, **that's not Amberle!"**_

-and, just as Wil had done minutes before, Eretria froze.

It couldn't be.

 _He's_ _wrong,_ her heart cried. _She's_ _here,_   _she's right here, just reach out and touch her-_

And the elvish princess turned, regarded the rover girl with terrible, impenetrable, fiery emerald eyes, and said, in a cold, contemptuous voice that was most definitely _not_ Amberle's,

"I am the Ellcrys, ultimate guardian of the Four Lands, destroyer and imprisoner of every demon who lives and breathes, created by the most powerful elves of the ancient age to stand sentry at the post of the Forbidding for as long as I shall live, which, as ensured by the most impressive magic within our world, is to be as endless as the reign of eternity. And- who might you be, exactly?"

 

 


	2. those of us who remain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ready yourselves, kids. there's a lot of "uh, wtf" this chapter.

"What the fuck?"

The Ellcrys smiled. Actually smiled, and the edges of Amberle's mouth tilted lopsidedly upward and her nose wrinkled a little bit and Eretria probably would've melted into a puddle if not for those horrible, horrible eyes.

"Seriously," She repeated. "What the fuck."

"Swearing is bad form, rover," The Ellcrys replied.

"I think she's allowed to have a bit of a curse-out," Wil interrupted. He'd somehow come to be standing at Eretria's side. "It's a lot to take in."

Amberle's- no, the _Ellcrys's_ smile turned into something a little more like a sneer; but only slightly, barely noticeably, like an elf politician's probably would after losing a particularly challenging debate.

A Changeling wouldn't have done this. Wouldn't have smiled like that. Nah, a Changeling would've rushed them, teeth baring, weapons swinging; or, if not that, at least would've smiled in a more creepy than intimidating way. And what kind of Changeling was stupid enough to claim they were the Ellcrys, anyway?

It couldn't be a Changeling, could it?

"What you think doesn't matter, boy," It said callously, calm and collected and quietly dangerous as Cephalo had often been when Eretria was young and recently initiated into the rover clan and searching fruitlessly for affection from anything and anyone, and Wil didn't move, but Eretria reached for his hand.

He clutched it tight.

"Don't speak to him like that," Eretria told Amber- told the Change- no wait, those sorts of demons were all locked up in the Forbidding, so- told the Ellcrys.

"I'll speak to him," The Ellcrys levelled her with the kind of withering glare that probably could've sent fully-grown elven warriors to their knees. "Like I speak to my subjects. Without me, he'd be dead within the hour. Coincidentally, you would both be dead within the hour."

(But Eretria was not an elven warrior).

"Because of the demons you're keeping in the Forbidding," Eretria ventured. "Also, egotistical much?"

It was hard to tell, but maybe the Ellcrys's green eyes burned a little brighter, like stars or gunfire or, you know, the simmering beginnings of an inevitable explosion that could quite possibly destroy everything and everyone in its path.

"Not a good idea, Eretria," Wil mumbled, fingers twitching in between hers.

What can she say? She's always liked explosions.

"Well, without us," Eretria began, dropping her voice, _"Coincidentally,_ you would be dead."

The Ellcrys didn't so much as blink. "If I were dead, the world would end. You'd all be dead."

"So everyone would be dead if we hadn't saved you."

"No, you fool." Eretria barely had time to scowl before it continued, "Do not delude yourself into thinking I owe you anything. The true reason we are all still breathing is because of Amberle Elessedil's sacrifice; a sacrifice, may I add, almost _did not occur_ simply because of the both of your petty existences, and the quite frankly incomprehensible amount of care she holds for them."

Eretria decided to ignore that last part, (whatever the Ellcrys meant by a sacrifice had reached a whole new level of _what the fuck, I need this to be explained extensively when I don't feel like dropping dead of exhaustion)_ and also the sharp, unsteady inhale of breath Wil took beside her at it.

Letting go of the half-elf's hand (much to his silent, wide-eyed protest), she stepped right into the Ellcrys's space. Raised her chin. Clenched her jaw. It wrinkled its nose in distaste, but didn't flinch; apparently, all-powerful entities didn't experience a sane person's immediate fear of a blood-stained rover with a wild glint in her eyes getting up in their face; and Eretria, horribly, terribly, stupidly, actually felt a little fearful shiver run down her spine at the close proximity to the thing, but, being a rover well-trained in the arts of seduction, violence, and murder, she didn't show it.

"Three months," Eretria hissed lowly, scanning the Ellcrys as she spoke for any flicker of doubt, any in its unaffected exterior, "Three months as slave in a troll mine. Half-starved, overworked, thinking I was left for dead-" Her voice cracked, "And all to save Wil and Amberle. All to save the world. All to save _you."_

"It's true," Wil said unexpectedly. There was no movement from behind her, but she could sense his gaze on her back; caught just on the edge of her shoulder blade, almost as if he was trying to look directly at the Ellcrys, but had diverted his eyes at the last second. "Without her, we'd be dead."

For a moment, the Ellcrys simply stared at Eretria. Expressionless. Unmoving.

(Eretria suddenly realised that the Ellcrys smelt like Amberle. Like pine needles and river-water and a hint of flowers or berries or whatever elvish princesses put in their hair and skin.)

(Briefly, she had to remind herself to breathe.)

"Amberle's memories tell me you speak true." The Ellcrys said, finally, breaking the moment. (How could it see Amberle's memories?) Eretria heard Wil exhale noisily through his nose, and his eyes shift from her shoulder to the ground. She felt herself relax slightly too, purely for the sake of unconsciously copying him and also maybe because holding the most ancient being in the Four Land's gaze for more than five seconds had created just a little bit of tension, but goddamnit, Eretria was a rover, and she had learned not to trust brief moments of reprieve. Even as she stepped back, she furrowed her brow.

"And that means you'll show some respect?" She challenged.

"Just let it go," Wil whispered from behind her, as if the Ellcrys couldn't hear his every word.

"No." She replied.

The tree-being sighed, and turned back toward the fire.

"Get some rest," It told them, the contentemptous tone returning to its weird low basslike voice. "Mortal souls such as yours need recharging."

"Oh, how shocking," Eretria said dryly, shaking off the half-elf boy with more than a little ferocity as he grabbed at her arm. "I'm not tired. And I need answers."

The Ellcrys ignored her.

She began to take a step forward. "I swear-to-demons, if you don't explain to me what the hell this is right now-"

"Eretria!" Wil yelped, pulling her back. "Not a good idea!"

"Go fuck yourself with a knife, Short Tips, I need to know why Amberle's body is-"

"Eretria," He said urgently, palms landing either side of her face to force him to look at her. She glared at him. "I know you're angry. I know you're confused. But-" He tightened his grip as she struggled to get away, eyes large and desperate in the dim firelight, "But, you've been working in a slave mine. Honestly, Eretria, you're exhausted, I can see it in your eyes." She glared more. "I'll explain it to you in the morning, I promise. I'll explain everything."

Her struggles ceased.

"Promise?" She asked suspiciously.

"Promise." He repeated.

Eyes narrowed, she let him lead her to one of the tents. (The shabbier one, she noticed; _only the best for the princess,_ she thought, feeling a little sick.)

"This isn't over!" She shouted over her shoulder as they ducked inside. "You're gonna need a good excuse to get out of this!"

Wil pulled the flap of the tent shut just as Ellcrys's head turned.

...

She had no dreams that night.

...

The rover girl opened her eyes to a blinding haze of tent-shaded afternoon sunlight. With an appallingly high-pitched whine, she rolled over, flinging one arm over her face, and promptly colliding with something that felt a little like a knee and more like a painfully knobbly weapon of mass destruction.

"Aghhhhhhh," Eretria groaned loudly, which could roughly be translated as _I'm groggy and confused and whoever you are, get your stupid leg away from me or I'll break it with my bare hands,_ and somebody chuckled above her.

"You feeling better?"

She blinked rapidly, blearily making out a warped version of a certain blond boy's face.

"Go away," She grumbled.

Wil smiled at her. At least, she thought he smiled at her. It was hard to tell.

"Lunch's outside."

"I don't care."

"There's bacon."

"I don't care. Get out of my tent."

"Eretria, this is _my_ tent."

"Yeah, well, it's mine now. I wanna sleep." She shoved at him blindly. "Go away."

"You know you've slept for fifteen hours, right?"

"I don't- what?"

That would explain the too-bright afternoon sunlight coming slowly into focus. Wil rolled his eyes (wow, she never knew he was capable of doing such a thing) and remained sitting, cross-legged, fully-dressed, near the edge of the tent (not at the foot of a mattress, they'd slept on the ground last night; at least it wasn't anywhere near as bad as sleeping on cave rock) as she struggled upright with a sweaty, lopsided bedhead, dirt-smeared limbs, and the bottom half of a way-too-big old shirt of Wil's she'd borrowed pooling in her lap. Damn tall people. Why couldn't they just own normal-sized shirts?

"Don't think I've ever slept that long in my life," She grumbled.

"You looked like you needed it."

She yawned at him, reaching behind her to work out the cricks in her neck. "Yeah...and why aren't you outside or something? Doing classic farm boy stuff? This tent is really small and..." She frowned as she noticed, "It's really fucking hot in here, too."

"I noticed." Wil said. "But in here's...better. Than being out there."

"Uh, why?"

He blinked at her.

And then the morning haziness fell away, and then she remembered, and something curdled in the pit of her stomach, hot and sickening. The half-elf rubbed at the back of his neck.  
He lowered his voice.

"I just couldn't be out there. With her-" He visibly winced, "With...it."

Eretria was pretty sure she was expected to understand that, but whatever.

"Okay," She said before silence could set in, "I'm not hungry. I don't want bacon. I want answers. Get out."

"I thought you wanted me to explain everything? We can do it in here."

"Yeah, well," She yawned again, jaw stretched wide and tight as a troll's before feeding, "You're a stutterer, and a tree who's lived since the dawn of the existence of the Four Lands is probably a better storyteller than you. Also, it's bloody hot, I need some air."

Wil swallowed. She clapped him on the shoulder and rose to her feet, sweaty head just barely brushing the roof of the tent; aha, the benefits of being short.

"Let's go, Short Tips."

And with that, she was tugging on a pair of cast-aside trousers (why did Wil have all these spare clothes lying around his tent?) and stumbling out of the tent, trailing small clods of dirt, snatching up a knife at the last minute (honestly, she swore he'd emptied his entire rucksack onto the floor of his tent) because, well, rover habits die hard. Also, with the Ellcrys outside, she could possibly at some point feel the need to stab something.

Wil slunk out after her, with more grace than she'd expected of him. Three months ago Eretria had been the well-coordinated one; she cursed Tye inwardly, for what seemed like the thousandth time.

(She noticed the bacon off to the side of the- no, she didn't notice the bacon. Answers now, food later).

The Ellcrys was crouched by the long-since burnt-out fire, holding something in its hands. It didn't look up as they exited the tent, but its gravelly tone was easily heard enough.

"You're out," It said. "That is satisfactory. We have work to do."

"And I have explainations owed," Eretria replied as she approached, slipping the knife into the waistband of her borrowed trousers. (A dangerous action, probably, liable of breaking the skin of her right thigh, but who cared about dangerous anymore?) Wil watched furtively from a few feet away, arms crossed awkwardly over his chest, shaggy blonde curls shining in the midday sun. She halted at the Ellcrys's side, bare dirty toes digging into the soft, charcoal-flecked grass. Her voice was a whole lot steadier than it had been last night, which she most definitely appreciated. "You need to tell me what in the name of the fucking elf king you're doing here."

The Ellcrys said nothing. Compelled by the breeze, the little wisps of hair on the top of Amberle's head danced slow, meaningless dances, and Eretria found herself staring.

"The elf king is dead."

The rover girl did _not_ start. No. Her shoulders just randomly jumped a little.

"Therefore, there is no reason for his name in this conversation." Amberle's head turned, and then the Ellcrys was looking up at Eretria with its blank, terrible eyes, and in the next second she was taking a step backwards because, well, no living creature should have eyes like that. "What do you wish for me to explain, child?"

"Everything," Wil said. Eretria glanced over her shoulder; saw that he'd moved a step or two closer. His voice was low and shaky when he said, "Tell her everything you told me."

The sun shone. The birds chirped. Somewhere nearby, a spring babbled. And Amberle's head nodded.

"Very well," The Ellcrys said in its weird deep voice, more cordial than Eretria had ever heard it, and if that wasn't a warning sign she didn't know what was. "Sit with me. My strategies will not be hindered by the ignorance of my allies."

 _Sitting with you is definitely a bad idea,_ Eretria thought, and then sat anyway.

...

Sitting with the Ellcrys was a bad idea.

"Bandon is possessed," The all-powerful plant life decreed. "The boy has been overtaken by one or perhaps a multitude of spirits, the likes of which I have never seen before. The Dagda Mor himself did not have such evil within him."

"How shocking," Eretria snarked. Wil's jaw twitched.

"Eretria, you haven't even met Bandon," He hissed. "Please be polite?"

"Whatever. Bark-face, continue." The Ellcrys cleared its throat, blank gaze lingering on Eretria a little too long, but did so.

"Almost three months ago, Bandon launched a mental attack upon my defences. He was not at all that powerful and obviously untrained, and had it been at any other time I easily would have repelled him, but unfortunately, I was still significantly shaken by the sickness I had endured over the previous weeks. He slipped past me whilst I was otherwise occupied, with the task of repairing myself."

"He took the Ellcrys' power," Wil added, shooting a quick, fearful glance at the mentioned being before continuing, "And somehow took it to the Forbidding."

"The Forbidding?" Eretria raised her eyebrows. "All that power and Bandon took it to the _Forbidding?"_

"Bandon didn't take it to the Forbidding," The Ellcrys told her. "The spirits did."

"...How did he even get evil spirits inside him anyway? Did he-"

"It's no matter." The Ellcrys let out a suddenly rather loud breath, as if only just remembering it had to breathe. "What matters is that they are there."

The Ellcrys sat weirdly, Eretria noticed; on its knees, back ramrod straight, hands tucked neatly in its lap. Compared to Wil and her own's positions, complete with slumped backs, wandering fingers, and crossed legs, it seemed utterly out of place.

Coincidnetally, the Ellcrys had arranged Amberle's body just like how an elven princess was probably supposed to sit; all perfect and proud and serene. Amberle herself would've never sat like that, unless in the case of being victim to several hostile threats.

"And so," The Ellcrys bulldozered onward, oblivious to the thoughts inside of Eretria's head; or, at least, she hoped it was oblivious; could it read thoughts? "I had barely moments to escape, as, once the boy had breached my defences, I had nothing left to fight with. I took the only chance that was available to me at the time; a transfer of my quickly-depleting power."

"And you transferred it to Amberle's body," Wil finished, looking down again. Eretria followed his gaze, and then she didn't know how she hadn't noticed that, with his too-twitchy fingers, he had been ripping the grass blades beside him to shreds. "And it destroyed her mind."

Eretria had barely time to gape before the Ellcrys swooped in with a swift "Amberle Elessedil still breathes."

"Her body still breathes," Wil corrected, eyes locked on the grass, "But she's dead."

"She is not dead, she is merely-"

"Sleeping." His hands sped up in their movements, pulling up the grass blades by their roots. "Except she's not going to wake up."

"That is-"

"Hey!" Both the Ellcrys' and Wil's eyes snapped to meet Eretria's. "Are you telling me Amberle's dead?"

Wil said "Yes," just as the Ellcrys said "No."

The raven-haired girl glowered at the both of them, somewhat to show exactly what her opinion was of their stupid argument but mostly because a glower could hide the way her throat was bobbing as she fought the urge to swallow, hard.

(Amberle wasn't dead. Amberle wasn't dead.)

"I have, indeed," The Ellcrys decreed, cleanly cutting off whatever Wil had been about to say with the quick ascension of one hand into the air, "Melded with her consciousness. As it is, I occupy her brain-space. My godly soul is entwined with her mortal one. She has, wisely, forfeited total control of herself to me; perhaps she been somewhat absorbed into myself, if she has yet reached that level of acceptance, I do not know; but, as of this moment, at least part of Amberle Elessedil remains."

"That's as good as dead." Wil murmured, hurriedly averting his eyes when the Wllcrys subsequently sought them out. Eretria was too busy processing, and feeling her heart tumble around in sickeningly circles inside of her chest, to notice.

"So you're a tree inside of an elf princess' body," Eretria said finally. The Ellcrys nodded.

"Although overly simplified, you could put it like that. Before my power was transferred, she was an elf princess inside of a tree, but now, I suppose, it is the other way around."

The raven-haired girl turned to the blonde-haired boy, eyes widening.

"So that's what you meant when you said Amberle was gone," She realised aloud. Wil didn't look at her, but his gloved fingers ripped at the grass a little faster than before. "Honestly, Short Tips, how hard was it to just say something like _by the way, my girlfriend has been possessed by a tree?"_

"I tried to tell you," He muttered, and Eretria felt like laughing and throwing up all at once.

"So why are you here?" She leaned back on her hands. A stray piece of charcoal, or maybe a rock, jutted up sharply in her left palm. She didn't care if it drew blood or not. "Just to torment us? To tell us we're never getting our-" She paused, because the word _friend_ suddenly sounded like too little and yet too much all at once, and so settled for, "Getting Amberle back? What's the point of that?" As she continued, Eretria felt her fists clench. "You get pleasure out of it or something? Is that right? You sick, sadistic, son of a-"

"Hope," The Ellcrys cut in. "I am here because, however much I dislike the company..." (Amberle's body huffed, the exact same way Amberle had huffed at circumstances that annoyed her; such as trolls, demons, or Wil and Eretria's habits of getting lost and/or beaten up; and Eretria fought down the unexpected lump in her throat.) "...The pair of you are my only hope."

"What the fuck do you-" The Ellcrys cleared its throat. (Again, even with its weird deep voice, it somehow made such an Amberle-like noise that Eretria couldn't help but to falter).

 _"The doors have been closed, the land has been freed_  
but alone lies a danger, eyes blackened with greed  
he waits for the Night of Seven, as the last of his kind  
with the key to the doors, locked deep inside his mind  
the healer and the rover, the two left behind  
only they can defeat him, with five talismans combined  
two from the beginning, two from the journey, one from the end  
each one dear to a single hero, their body to life itself they lend  
the first pair is physical, the first tokens of the first task  
the second two are mental, unspoken tolls of the past  
and the fifth is an emotion, one breaks of, one should hate  
the five talismans together, given willingly, shall create-"

Unexpectedly, a new voice interrupted.

 _"On the Night of Seven, a blue moon born entirely of fate;_  
and a battle of unspeakable evil, and pure intention of heart  
one will triumph over the other, breaking four souls apart.  
Through pain into glory, the last deathly test  
will one way or another, put the Four Lands to rest." Wil finished, stealing a glance up at Eretria and her dark, narrowed eyes, his grass-destroying hands stilling momentarily. "It's a prophecy. The Ellcrys has repeated it every night since its been following me."

"It's been...following you?"

The half-elf bit his lip.

"Yes," He said. "Since I began looking for you, nearly three months ago. It took a while, but eventually I realised it wasn't Allanon shadowing me-" Eretria snorted lightly at that, "I shouted out for whoever it was to show their face, and it did, and I saw...I saw Amberle looking up at me. It nearly made me fall off my horse."

"Well, obviously she would've followed you if you'd left her in Arborlon to look for me, why were you suprised?" Eretria said. "She's the most idiotically selfless person I know. You must've known leaving her behind wouldn't work."

Wil shot her a pained look, and opened his mouth, but the Ellcrys cut in.

"I explained the transfer of power," It said crisply, with a slight, distasteful curl to its lip, "And recited the prophecy I obtained from consulting the Oracle, soon after Bandon had infiltrated my defence systems. He seemed more distracted than was necessary, so I had to tell him in exceedingly simple terms."

"So-" Eretria began.

"The simple terms: I need the five talismans mentioned in the prophecy to regain my power, through a blue moon, on the Night of Seven. _Each one dear to a single hero, their body to life itself they lend-_ quite obviously, five talismans dear to Amberle Elessedil herself. The laws of the Oracle forbid Amberle herself inside of me to provide direct information. She did, however, reason that Wil Ohlmsford was mentioned in the prophecy as well, and that he knew where the first and perhaps second talisman was, and thus I came to him."

"The Night of Seven- five- what-" Eretria didn't often stutter, but whatever, it was a lot to take in. "I'm in the prophecy too, from what I heard. He's the healer-" She jabbed a finger at Wil, and then one at herself, "And I'm the rover. It literally said only we can defeat Bandon. Why didn't you come for me?"

"The whereabouts of the talismans, and finding them before the Night of Seven, are an infinitely more important task," The Ellcrys replied, unfazed. "You, rover, have been condemned to a certain fate, and I knew that fate would bring you to me eventually, various trials being no matter. I do, after all, have connections with the Oracle."

Eretria's fingernails were cutting half-moons into her palms now.

(She remembered the knife at her hip).

"I tried to make it help me search for you," Wil told her hurriedly, "In exchange for my information about where the first talisman is. It wouldn't, it kept muttering something about fate and destiny, and we were in kind of a stalemate for ages but it had to keep following me after all so I just kept making camps and searching because I somehow knew something bad must have happened to you and it did absolutely nothing in the background, and I fed it and sheltered it because it has Amberle's body and I couldn't let anything happen to it, and meanwhile it kept trying to pry information out of me-"

"And Amberle's soul agreed to this?" Eretria interrupted. She turned her attention back to the Ellcrys. It's gaze met hers. Stupidly enough, she felt the beginnings of tears prick behind her eyes as she asked, far more softly than before, "She agreed to letting me rot in a slave mine for three months?"

The sun shone. The birds chirped. Somewhere nearby, a spring babbled. And the Ellcrys hesitated.

And then Amberle's head nodded.

"She informed me," It said, "That you were perfectly capable of taking care of yourself."

For a moment, the three of them were silent. Wil, with his big, pleading eyes and strangled words, The Ellcrys, with its blank stare and closed mouth, and Eretria, with clenched fists and a roiling stomach, and all of them, sitting, in the suddenly suffocating silence.

(From afar, the trio must've looked just like they did four or so months ago. A brown-haired elf princess, a blue-eyed farm boy, and a sharp-mouthed rover girl, sitting on the grass by a burnt-out fire, silent.)

"Fuck this," Eretria said finally. And then, louder, voice cracking, _"Fuck this."_

"Eretria-" Wil began.

"I'm going to the river," She told them. "Anyone follows me, they're dead."

(Wil and the Ellcrys watched her silently as she left, snatching up a handful of bacon from beside the tents as she did so, and from afar, maybe that looked like a normal scene for the three of them, too).

 

 


	3. tearing down your understanding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> aka. Eretria being your angry problematic fave, nudity, and a fight of epic proportions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> five weeks...it's been a long wait. sincerest apologies. hope you enjoy.

The water was cold.

The type of cold that infiltrates you. The kind of cold that prickles and bristles beneath your skin, blazes bitterly at the back of your throat; the kind of cold that stiffens and stings around the joints of your bones until you can barely move or breathe, for the fear of rupturing that thin veil of fake warmth your body conjures up whenever it feels the need to provide some sort of shield against the elements.

It was a dangerous kind of cold, but Eretria didn't care.

The river licked at her half-closed wounds, and it burned, and she welcomed it.

"Fucking goddamn tree," She muttered, scrubbing at her arms. The ensuing cloud of dirt and blood swirled around her legs, her hips, her stomach. "Fucking _magical plant life._ Fucking _Wil."_

She wasn't even sure what she was saying anymore. Somewhere between tearing off her rags and marching into the river, she'd started talking; more like yelling; and now her conversation with the musky forest air had been reduced to half-mumbled swearing and the erratic scratching of her nails against bare skin.

Eretria had been taught to avoid rivers. They were way too wide-open. Never provided enough cover. The smaller streams especially attracted too much attention from woodland animals, and eventually the creatures hunting them. They could be an alright place for ambushes, but there were roads for that. She'd never really bathed much; none of the other rovers in her clan had; and as she stepped out of the water, she couldn't help but recoil a little after a glance at the unfamiliar sight of her naked, unnervingly clean body.

(Being clean meant she could actually _see_ her body, all of it, for the first time in three months; she could see the sharp jut of her malnourished ribs, the clammy paleness of light-starved skin, masses of bloodclots clumped round the outskirts of jagged, half-healed wounds).

(Blood clots. Blood. Useless Armegeddon blood, a plague of it, creeping over and across and through her.)

Still, it was better than being caked in slavery wastage, so Eretria would take what she could get.

She refocused on the water. The ebbing, flowing currents of it, tugging threateningly at her balance-

"Eretria! I'm honestly so sorry! The Ellcrys didn't mean to say that!" Wil burst out from the trees, a bundle of fresh clothes in his hands, "Here, I have-" And then he noticed her bare torso above the river's surface, and honestly, if she was in the mood, she'd have to admit the way he instantly tripped over himself to turn around was comical. 

"I said if you followed me," She called, brushing the wet hair out of her eyes. "I'd kill you. And you're scared of a little nudity?"

"I-I'm not-you wouldn't do that. Please, for the love of... put some clothes on!" Promptly he tossed the entire set of clothing over his shoulder. Fortunately for him, Eretria decided not to waste any time in exiting the river and snatching them up.

 _Demons,_ she thought, he didn't even seen most of me. _The river took care of that._ Absently she wondered how she'd managed to have sex with him in the past. The half-elf was literally the most innocent person she'd ever come across. 

Actually, speaking of that memory...

"Short Tips," The boy in question fidgeted uncomfortably as she buttoned her shirt. "You forgetting you've seen me naked before?"

"No!" He yelped. "I mean, yes?"

Eretria rolled her eyes. 

_Hopeless._

But fortunately for Wil Ohlmsford, Eretria decided to take pity.

"You're an idiot," She said, "But you're an idiot that knows stuff. Get over here and explain what the Ellcrys didn't."

The half-elf hesitated. He scuffed his heels unsurely on the damp riverbank ground. 

"Do you have clothes on now?" He asked timidly.

"Yes, and I have a knife. Get your scrawny ass-'

"Okay, I'm turning around!"

___

"So what didn't the Ellcrys explain to you?" Wil asked later, rubbing at the back of his neck. "I personally thought it was pretty clear."

The two of them were sitting my the edge of the river, feet in the water, shoulders brushing. Wil had earlier taken off his boots and socks, winced at the cold against his toes (why did she hang around so many fragile fake-badasses with hero complexes?) and now it was just them and the annoying lack of tree cover that kept relentlessly itching at Eretria and the cool, crystal-clear water.

(Wil had noticed the cuts and bruises across her skin, but she'd managed to brush him off with the promise of letting him clean them up properly later. Healers. So annoying.)

"Pretty damn clear about what it needed us to do, yeah." She rolled her shoulders and bit back a bitter smile. "Pretty damn clear about the fact it doesn't give a fuck about me. Amberle neither."

"Eretria, that's not what-"

"Shut your mouth, Short Tips," The rover girl interrupted. "I know Amberle gives a fuck about me. She gives a fuck about _everyone._ That's my point. There's stuff the Ellcrys isn't telling me- hell, it skimmed right over the bit where the world nearly ended." She leaned forward, fire in her eyes. "Why'd it pick Amberle? Was it because she saved the world?" Wil hesitated. She barrelled onward. "And what did the Ellcrys mean by Amberle making a sacrifice?"

The boy sighed. He looked down at the river like it was suddenly ten times more interesting than before, his newly downturned gaze rendering him completely oblivious to (or maybe just aiding him in denial of) the fact that Eretria was watching him like a hawk.

"...Allanon told me he'd spread the word about it. About the saving of the world, I mean."

Eretria snorted. "Yeah, well, news doesn't travel fast in a slave mine."

Wil shifted.

"Again," He began, "I am so, so sorry about that-"

"Get to the damn point, Wil."

"Sorry. So, um, where do I start? After you- after you sacrificed yourself- we escaped. Rounded up our horses, and went to Arborlon. There was a blockade installed, so-" The softly-pointed tips of his ears turned a faint shade of red. "So we holed up for the night."

"Let me guess," Eretria said dryly, "Princess Heart-Eyes confessed her undying love for you and fucked you to sleep."

Shockingly, Wil actually didn't blush all that much. Instead he simply nodded, a little bittersweet smile curling at the edge of his lip as he stared off into space. Eretria would've teased him for that, but she hadn't expected him to actually answer with a _yes, we fucked each other to sleep,_ and she blamed the spontaneity of his answer for the sudden, acute pang inside of her chest. Amberle and Wil had been dancing around each other for as long as she'd known them, and that had maybe kind of a little bit given her some amount of irrational hope for some reason she didn't want to think too hard on. Now that their relationship was confirmed...

But, whatever.

"Do you feel okay with that?" He met her eyes. His expression was so open and honest she found herself mentally shrinking backward. "With, I mean..."

"Yeah, yeah." She leant back on her palms, putting distance between their shoulders. "Always knew it'd happen anyway. You two..." Eretria swallowed back a forceful surge of familiar bitterness, the kind she hadn't felt in nearly three months, and finished with a weak, "You're meant to be, I guess."

A more observant person probably would've pried her further, but Wil didn't. Maybe that was one of the reasons she kept him around.

Instead, he muttered,

 _"Were_ meant to be."

And the panging in her stomach subsided. Consider her silenced.

"We stuck to the plan," Wil continued, directing his gaze back to the river below his feet. "Ander led the battle against the demons, while Amberle and I tried to sneak in. Eventually we were surrounded, but Allanon came to our rescue." He chuckled, a little wetly. "What would I do without him?"

Eretria kicked at the river. Looked up at the sky. Tried not to think of Cephalo, and his dying breath, and his last words; his final, and only, attempt at redemption.

She could only imagine what it'd be like to have someone like Allanon, the sickeningly heroic Druid, to watch your back. She'd never had anything close to the sort of relationship Wil seemed to enjoy with the Druid. Because, well, rovers don't get father figures. They get slave owners. That's the way it works, and that's the way it'll stay.

"So long story short, Allanon pretty much did all of the hard work- with the help of a squad of goblins, demons knows where he got them. He got us past the battle, and he got us into the chamber of the Ellcrys- he even fought the _Dagda Mor_ so we could get through those doors."

Absently, Eretria murmured, "The fuck is a Dagda Mor?"

Wil didn't hear her. Or pretended not to, but this point in their relationship she was pretty sure it was physically incapable for him to pretend anything. (Demons and trolls, what elf blood does to the odds of someone's survival.)

(Then again, he's not dead yet. She's still in awe as to how that's happened).

"And then," The boy started. He stopped.

Closed his eyes.

Inhaled.

"And then Amberle told me she was the seed."

There was a moment of silence.

The fuck does that mean?

"Wow, great timing, princess," Eretria replied, a beat late, (because she honestly had no idea what he was talking about and snarky retorts were what she could always fall back on) and Wil opened his suddenly too-bright eyes to shoot her an indignant glare. "Aw, I'm sorry, was that offensive?"

"Actually she did have proper timing," He grumbled, "Because she told me she'd tried to tell me earlier-"

"And you're an oblivious idiot. Also she was probably busy fucking your brains out, am I right?"

Wil's ears turned red again. "Eretria!"

"What, can't face the truth? Anyway, the hell did she mean?"

"Anyway," He continued, pointedly avoiding her gaze. "There was a war right outside the doors. Allanon and Ander and everybody else were fighting for their lives, and there were men dying metres away and the Elfstones were burning into my hand like...well, like Elfstones." Pausing, Wil leaned forward on his hands to look down at the water, ears still an obnoxious shade of red, but body language turning from flustered to a mixture between sad and defeated something else, something a little like...anger? Temporarily, the half-elfs blond curls obscured his face. Eretria watched him, something settling stone-like in the pit of her stomach.

(The atmosphere abruptly seemed a little heavier).

"And all I could think about was Amberle." Craning her neck, she caught a fleeting glimpse of the way his eyebrows pulled together; a distressed scrunch, one she'd only seen the likes of before in the minutes after the first lighting of the Bloodfire. "She was all I could see. All I could think about."

His shoulders rose and fell with one deep, shaky breath.

"She told me that, to save the world, she had to become the Ellcrys."

"She had to sacrifice herself," Eretria realised aloud. "Oh. The seed- _oh."_

(Her heart jolted painfully in her chest.)

"I didn't understand," Wil said, fingers clenching and unclenching in the soft, soluble riverbank beneath him, "She was trying to explain and she was pleading with me to let her- to let her kill herself-" And Eretria intook a definitely not shaky breath of her own, "She'd known since Safehold." He repeated the word like a troll repeating random words of the English language; uncomprehending, stumbling, over-emphasised. "Safehold."

He lifted his gaze to hers, hair falling away from his face to reveal two glittering, red-rimmed eyes, and delivered the next two sentences like shots from Tye's gun.

"It wasn't even worth bleeding yourself dry to bring her back from the Bloodfire, Eretria," He told her. His tears visibly threatened to break free and roll down his cheeks. _Too-bright eyes_. 

"It was never Amberle's destiny to live anyway."

Eretria almost could've sworn she heard an audible _crack_ as her heart splintered.

And then, because she is a rover and what a rover does is deflect and deny and disbelieve-

"You're _wrong,"_ She hissed. Wil flinched a little, the first tear escaping from its fragile blue-glass prison down a route south, the only route, the inevitable route, across his cheek and down his jaw and eventually down into the river. "You're wrong. You're lying."

"I did everything I could," He pleaded. His words tripped brokenly over each other. "I begged her to stop, fought off the Dagda Mor in Allanon's place, I made her hesitate for a second but while I wasn't looking she entered the Ellcrys and-"

"Shut up," Eretria interrupted, pulling her feet forcefully out of the river. She stood. Towered over him. Snarled, "Just _shut up,_ Wil."

He did.

"She's not dead." She wedged one foot into a clean boot, and then the other, crouching quickly to tie the laces. "The Ellcrys said so."

"You can't trust that-"

"I'm not _trusting,"_ She spat. "I haven't heard everything. I'm getting answers."

"Eretria, please!" Wil scrambled to his feet, salt water spilling down his cheeks and fresh water running down his ankles, and grabbed her by the still-sore-from-recently-being-handcuffed wrists. She flinched, but his grip was strong, even while his fingers trembled uncontrollably against her skin. "Eretria-" His eyes were too bright, direct sunlight (no stupid tree cover) glancing blindingly off the water in them, "I've already given you answers. Just take my word for it, please don't talk to it. It'll get into your head and it'll break you," And she shut her eyes and turned her head away to avoid the sight of teary-eyed broken-glass rough-voiced Wil, and he shook her, fingers clenched desperately around her wrists like handcuffs, and she knew he didn't realise he was breaking the fragile skin with his nails, and it hurt, and- "It will break you down from the inside out, alright? It'll-"

"Wil!" Eretria screamed, eyes still screwed shut. "Calm the fuck down!"

The volume of her shout seemed to take him by suprise; he fell silent, and his grip on her wrists slackened. Taking advantage (as she had been trained to) of his momentary weakness, Eretria shoved a quick knee into his stomach, heard all the air leave the half-elf in a single breath, and ripped herself from his grasp with eyelids newly snapped open as he bent over double, wheezing.

She backed off nearly ten paces, eyeing him.

Through his gasps, he looked up at her. The recently-reopened scabs on her wrists, and the ensuing trickles of hot, stinging (useless, Armegeddon) blood across them drew his attention immediately; he stared at them with some kind of dumbstruck, glassy horror.

Fresh teartracks began to carve themselves into his salt-stained features.

"I'm sorry," He got out, when he was able. He reached for her, child-like. "I'm so, so sorry-"

"Don't even bother," Eretria refuted coldly.

"E-Eretria-"

"Don't follow me. I can take care of myself."

And, before he could say anything or look at her with those terrible teary eyes for one second longer, she was gone.

(Back into the tree cover.)

 

___

 

Ten minutes later, and Eretria was actually kind of wishing for Wil's terrible teary eyes instead of impenetrable non-pupilled leaf-green ones.

Great. She'd spent only just over two seconds in the Ellcrys' presence.

 _Toughen up, dumbass,_ she told herself.

"Ah, you're back," It droned, not moving from its sitting position. Legs crossed, palms on knees, face uplifted, eyes blank. "How...fortunate." The rover girl eyed it suspiciously, chest still heaving from the run back to camp. Her wrists throbbed painfully, but she'd spat on them a few times and wiped them on her borrowed pants to get most off the blood, and Eretria had been trained to ignore pain anyway. It'd be fine. Whatever.

"Are you being sarcastic?" She asked.

"As I understand, no." The Ellcrys' voice was toneless as ever, but one of Amberle's eyebrows raised and her mouth tilted open a little bit in the facial expression with which the elvish princess would've offered a teasing challenge, and Eretria felt suddenly extremly confused.

"Right," She swallowed her confusion, "Guess all that bark in the brain really messes with your understanding."

The teasing smirk slipped easily off its face, replaced by one raised, unimpressed eyebrow. It sighed.

(And honestly, did it even know how confusing Amberle's little bodily actions were-)

"I encourage you, rover, not to be easily provoked. A conversation is not a battle."

Thinking of their last conversation, Eretria replied, "It is with you."

"Additionally, I implore you to work on your manners."

"I'll do what I want."

The Ellcrys's eyes remained blank, but Amberle's shoulders rolled languidly, the same way a lion's would in warning before it pounced. The lean muscle of them rippled visibly beneath the thin shirt fabric, catching Eretria's (kind of) unwilling attention. (She decided not to feel embarrassed about that; she'd checked Amberle out before, anyway.)

(Then again, this time around the princess was inhabited by an all-knowing tree, so it did feel a little weird.)

"If this is about what upset you earlier," It eyed her. "I will not amend my previous statements for the sake of your blatant immaturity-"

"It's not." Eretria tilted her head, like the omega wolf does before it challenges an alpha. "But yeah, I'll make you pay for that."

It didn't scoff, but its tone lowered disdainfully. "You will not make me pay for anything-"

"For making me think Amberle would really just leave me behind like that?" Boldly, Eretria stepped closer. The Ellcrys sat calmly with face upturned, remaining wholly unaffected, but seeing her own shadow block out the sun from reaching arguably the most powerful creature in the Four Lands made her feel a little steadier. A little stronger. "For telling me she'd let me rot in a slave mine for three months? _Damn right_ you'll pay."

"It is the truth," The Ellcrys said, "And you are a fool not to see it."

Without warning, Eretria grabbed it by the collar. Her fingers tingled upon making contact with the skin of Amberle's throat, but she decided not to think about that. Bending her knees, she hauled the Ellcrys's dead weight upward, until it was nose to nose with her.

She looked it right in those blank, terrible eyes and told it, "You're going to tell me how to get Amberle back."

The Ellcrys smirked. Actually _smirked,_ right up close to Eretria's face, and despite the horrible non-pupilled green of its eyes Eretria felt her heartbeat stutter traitorously at the Amberle-ness of it.

"Ah," The smirk fell from its face quickly as it had come, leaving only dangerously blank green eyes behind. The sight made Eretria nauseous. "I'm going to, am I?"

Eretria forced herself not to relinquish her grip.

As it turned out, that was a Forbidding of a mistake.

"I do not appreciate being ordered about by a mere rover," The Ellcrys informed her, and then slapped Eretria hard enough for her to see stars. Her head reeled back. Her fingers loosened on Amberle's collar. With alarming speed, the Ellcrys grabbed her by the waist and shoulder and slammed her to the ground, right on top of the whiplash scars on her back, forcing a choked, high-pitched scream from Eretria. She attempted to scrabble away. Subsequently, the Ellcrys landed a perfectly positioned kick to her stomach, forcing all the air from her body; and then another for good measure. 

A final kick flattened Eretria to the ground. She didn't even have the air left to scream. She was helpless.

The Ellcrys stood over her, triumphant. Barely breathing hard.

The Ellcrys stood over her, blocking out the sun, and then all Eretria could see was Amberle; Amberle's left boot landing squarely on her stomach to pin her to the grass, Amberle's face graced with a grim yet satisfied smile, Amberle's fists and ankles speckled crimson with Eretria's blood.

 _Amberle,_ she thought dazedly. _Amberle just... attacked me._

"Had the prophecy had not demanded you alive, you would currently be dead," It stated, with no emotion in its tone whatsoever, and through the ringing in her ears Eretria could barely recognise that it wasn't Amberle's voice.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what have I done 
> 
> oh and as always plz leave a kudos/comment below if you liked, it might help me update faster next time :)


	4. chaos, in all shapes and forms

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> aka. Amberle's POV for the first time in foreverrr, Eretria and Wil being rude to each other like always, and a surprise at the end :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why does it take me so long to write anything?

Amberle can't hear her own voice.

She's not entirely sure if she has one, anymore. That's okay.

There are other voices to replace hers.

They weave patterns of noise around her head; slow, soothing rythms, like seawater lapping languidly at the sand of the beach her grandmother had built her little gypsy hut near, not long after desterting her husband. Amberle used to love visiting that beach. The waves would tickle her shins as she skittered along the waterline, and she would yelp and giggle at the cold nip of it, raising her little palms toward the sky.

The voices seem to be aware of that. Of that memory. They whisper and hiss in her ear, and to Amberle, it sounds as if they're almost perfectly mimicking the ocean of twelve or so years ago, muttering unintelligible promises into the sand.

It's peaceful. It feels like her grandmother's arms.

There are worse afterlives, she supposes.

 **Amberle,** the Ellcrys thinks to her. She smiles into the dark.

 _I'm here,_ She thinks back.

And in this afterlife, the Ellcrys lives. It breathes, and It moves, and she can sense It starting a fire; because It is using her body to perform the motions. Amberle's body is still inexplicably tied to her soul by fragile strings of mortality, no matter how mighty a puppeteer the Ellcrys is, but such a fact is, as It told her, of no consequence nor matter; she belongs utterly to the all-powerful entity. Mind, body, soul. While the Ellcrys has claimed her body, some of Amberle's mortality remains, and after Bandon is defeated, her mortality will be lost forevermore.

This is of no consequence. Nor matter. In fact, it will eventually give her further access to a more active afterlife, as the Ellcrys has explained earlier. No more voices. Perhaps colour, or abstract shape. With fair fortune, a chance to meet her grandmother again. A chance to meet her father again.

And eternity.

 **There is something you may wish to know,** the Ellcrys thinks.

_What may I?_

**I have come across the rover. The healer located her. They sleep now.**

Amberle feels a certain wave of relief wash over her; happiness, maybe, on a molecular level. It's not overly invasive or forceful. Before she became one with the Ellcrys, she remembers, happiness as an emotion was often intense enough nearly be painful. Here, it's calm. Gentle. She appreciates that.

 _Good,_ She thinks. _That's good._

The Ellcrys hesitates. She feels It hesitate, acutely as she would have once felt a skipped heartbeat inside her chest. She waits patiently.

**The rover is...unstable.**

_Unstable?_ If she had a brow, it would surely crease.

 **Angry,** the Ellcrys thinks, and the word rolls ominously out into the silence.

 _Angry,_ Amberle repeats. Unease grows on her like a second skin. _Why?_

 **Past problems. Issues made irrelevant by time.** A vague sense of displeasure slips into It's tone. **The last three months have changed her considerably. She is not as willing to cooperate with me as you predicted she would.**

 _...She will,_ Amberle thinks slowly. _Just give it time._ Even as she thinks, she's distracted. Why would Eretria be angry at the Ellcrys, enough to resist the call of helping with the prophecy quest? She and Wil left her with the trolls, but Eretria had given them no choice and besides, the girl would have figured out a way to escape. From what Amberle and the Ellcrys's sparse information had deduced, the majority of the Eretria's time the last three months would have been spent hiding out in the woods; and, if Amberle's assumptions were correct, working any leftover resentment or betrayal toward Wil and Amberle for leaving her behind. Eretria was supposed to have been easily convinced to join the quest; if not by the Ellcrys, then by Wil. 

The plan was flawless. Eretria had proven time no time again she perfectly capable of handling herself. _Of course_ that's what would've happened.

 _Is there any reason why..._ She drew out the sentence, letting the Ellcrys hear the extent of the bewilderment in her thoughts. _Why have the last three months changed her? Why is she so angry?_

**The last three months, her whereabouts have been...a mystery. Anything might have happened, and that "anything" has changed her.**

_Why? What is that anything?_

**Who knows?** The Ellcrys turns a condescending sort of weary. **Mortals are fragile.**

Something doesn't sound entirely right. _But Eretria isn't,_ Amberle replies.  
  
_Eretria isn't Eretria isn't Eretria isn't_ fades hollowly out into the void.

**She is now.**

 

___

 

"You'll heal," Wil muttered, "But not soon."

Eretria didn't bother answering, concentrating instead on holding back a wince at the next touch of the salve against her open wound. The salve burnt, but Wil's eyes burnt hotter. She ardently avoided them.

"I'll tie up the bandages soon." One of his fingernails caught for a moment under a little flap of bare, bleeding flesh, and involuntarily her muscles tensed. With a sharp, disgruntled growl, he ordered, "Relax your shoulder."

She did.

"You weren't supposed to get hurt," Wil spoke up, a little while later. The sound of ripping bandages filled the suffocating silence of the tent. "Demons, Eretria. I went three months trying to find you. To find you, and keep you safe."

Eretria kept her eyes fixed on the floor. Tarpaulin; plain brown. The colour of a cave floor.

He shook his head- she caught the motion of out the corner of her eye- and continued to roll the bandage around her wounded arm. "And now, not a day back with me and you're picking fights with the Ellcrys-"

"Didn't see you trying to help," She muttered. Her whole body felt like it'd been stampeded over by a pack of wolves, and her heart too, and she really just wanted Wil to get her wounds bound up and leave her alone but- "But I guess a princess' safety trumps a rover's, right?"

Eretria felt the eleven boy's movements hesitate, his fingers stilling on her bicep. She was too hurt to care. "You might not be scared of the Ellcrys," She drawled. Every word inspired a different spark of pain somewhere in her body. "But you're definitely scared of what it's done to Amberle. And her body." Eretria sneered at the floor, ignoring the sting as her bruised lip stretched and broke, urging the telltale metallic tang of blood into her mouth. "You'd do anything to stop from hurting your precious girlfriend. You watched it beat me to the ground."

It was true. Wil had watched it happen. At some point he must've returned from the river to the campsite; she'd seen flashes of him as the Ellcrys savaged her, his bright blond hair amongst the trees, and she remembered a mangled plead catching in her throat as she reached out for him with one clawing, bloodied hand.

But he'd stood there and watched. And watched. And watched. He'd done nothing. The Ellcrys had departed with a huff and a laugh, and he'd darted to her side and fretted over her with shaking hands and terrified eyes, but it was too late. Eretria knew she'd been betrayed. She let him carry her into the tent, but had barely spoken a word to him since.

Until now.

"Eretria-"

"Don't bother."

His eyes were wide and watery when she finally met them with her own.

"Stay out of this tent," She told him. "Just stay out." She scoffed, the noise catching hard in her throat, coming out more like a cough. Her lip curled. "Go keep your _girlfriend_ safe."

The last sentence hit him like a troll's whip; she saw it in his face, in the slackening of his jaw and the drop of his chin. He intook a single, shaky breath.

(Three months ago a sight such as that would've sent her heart plummeting sickeningly down to her stomach, but today...today it did nothing.)

Wil made one final, last-ditch effort. "The bandages on your shoulder aren't done-"

"I'll do it myself."

His bottom lip wobbled, all clean and boyish and pitiful, and hers curled further, drenched in hot, scarlet, useless Armegeddon blood.

"Get out," Eretria repeated frostily. "Get out and stay out."

He shifted his weight. Dropped his gaze.

And he did.

The tent flap fluttered shut, with all the finality of a cell door locking, and Eretria sat alone, the edge of the fresh bandage flaking off her shoulder like snow would a Pykon mountaintop, eyes dry and bleak as ice.

 

___

 

There is only chaos.

Bandom screams, doubles over. They laugh and holler and make mockery, driving into him from all sides with the force of sledgehammers, and although such pain is only the equivalent of a flock of little schoolboy bullies compared to the sheer damage They are capable of inflicting, he screams anyway.

He does not cry, but They laugh as if he did.

 ** _We have remade you!_** They shout merrily. **_You are but only darkness now!_**

 _I surrender, I have surrendered_ , Bandon gasps, _I'm yours, I'm yours, I'm-_

 ** _You are!_** They agree, kicking him in the ribs, the stomach, the head. **_You are, you are, you are!_**

 _I'll do anything,_ Bandon pledges, and he doesn't even know what he is begging for, because They will never stop hurting him, he will never stop being hurt, because he is Theirs. Their weapon. Their slave. _I'm yours,_ he repeats brokenly, and the wave of wicked pleasure in response rushes over him like a hurricane, bringing him to his knees.

 ** _Bow! Bow! Bow!_** They shriek, and Bandon bows, and the howls of Their laughter shatter and shatter and shatter anything that once had the audacity not to be broken in the whole broken world.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Going to be some actual real princessrover interaction next time, folks. Tune in for Chapter Five! (when I've finished procrastinating)


	5. meet me at the edge (finally)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes, it has been a while. here's the update you've been waiting for.

"I'm not riding with you," Eretria snarled.

Wil paused, one boot already poised over a stirrup. "Eretria-"

"I'm _not,"_ She repeated. "Riding. With. You.”

He met her gaze. "That's not possible," Wil told her. "Where we're going's too far not to on horseback."

"It's not riding." Eretria jutted her chin at the Ellcrys, who stood off to the side of their recently deconstructed campsite, examining its cuticles. The blond boy's eyes flickered nervously over to it, and back again.

"It doesn't need a horse," He said.

"So the Ellcrys can fly. I'll add that to the list of things it has in common with a Fury."

Wil exhaled. "Just...be careful what you say, okay?" He glanced pointedly at her bandaged shoulder, and the motion inspired a little explosion of fury inside her chest.

"Or what?" She stepped closer. "It'll beat me up again?"

He flinched. "Maybe."

"Punch me? Kick me while I'm down? Make me choke on dirt?"

"I don't know, Eretria," He said helplessly, "It could do anything to you."

"Say it killed me. What would happen then?”

"Eretria-“ Her fists clenched and his protests died. Last night her rage been cold and hard as diamond. This morning, everything was just a little muddled, and her rage was all rumpled and warped from sleep, she wanted revenge somehow; on something, anything.

"If you heard a bone snap, would you twitch your little finger? If it tore out my eyeballs- that be enough to make you say anything, huh?” Her mouth twisted, sharp as an assasin's knife digging into unprotected flesh. “Or would you just stand there? Close your eyes, maybe?”

Wil’s face was doing a thing that reminded her of a kicked puppy and was probably supposed to make Eretria feel guilty or something but all she felt was hurt and betrayal and even a little bit of sorrow too, a little self-pity, a little voice in her head whispering _you knew it'd come to this all along, didn't you? He never cared, did he?_ that she couldn't or wouldn’t shut out because maybe she was beginning to believe it-

“Humans.” The Ellcrys cut in pleasantly. Somehow (by unseen forces no doubt) its reserved tone carried clear across the clearing. “We plan to reach our destination before nightfall, yes?”

Wil nodded. “I'm sorry,” He said hoarsely, eyes still trained on Eretria.

With every ounce of will in her body, she unclenched her fists.

“Do anything you have to,” Eretria told the Ellcrys. The defeat in Wil’s eyes at what she uttered next could've brought a Fury to its knees, but she didn't _care-_  “I'm not riding with him.”

 

___

 

Amberle’s arms were warm.

Like, really warm. Too-close-to-a-fire, burn-through-your-clothes warm. Eretria would be more freaked out about that if she wasn't busy clinging onto the girl’s- the tree’s- neck for dear life.

“What the fuck is your problem?!” She roared in the ear of possibly the most powerful being in the known world. The Ellcrys sneered in response; or, Eretria _thought_ it sneered, the force of the wind in her face had made it difficult to make out anything clearer than a blur, really; and then gravity lurched and spiralled again like some kind of bird gone fucking insane, and Eretria ducked back down into the relative shelter of Amberle’s neck, teeth fastening solidly into the shirt fabric there as she fought the urge to sob or scream or vomit all at once.

How she’d ended up scooped into a bridal carry and run across the forest at breakneck speeds was beyond her. When Eretria had asked for the Ellcrys’ help, she’d expected teleportation or shadow-traveling or ideally the summoning of some mountable creature, but no; the tree had raised one eyebrow, looked her up and down disdainfully, and then without warning snatched her up into deceptively strong, _warm_ arms and started running.

She didn't even know where Wil was anymore. With luck the Ellcrys would've left him a trail to follow, because obviously there was no way his horse’s little legs could keep up. The sheer speed of the trees rushing by was proof of that.

Where were they even going, anyway? Nobody had bothered to tell her.

She clutched hard and desperate at Amberle’s back instead of knowing. Shut her eyes tight and bit the terror in her throat into Amberle’s flesh. As horrible as it was, at least Eretria had Amberle’s body to cling to; at least she could hold onto that.

(As the Ellcrys ran on, holding Eretria terrifying loosely, Eretria couldn't help but shut her eyes and ludicrously pretend that the elven girl’s arms were holding on tight as Eretria’s own.)

 

___

 

_Ellcrys?_

A moment passes. **Chosen,** It greets her. A little faster than usual, as if It is out of breath.

 _Did someone just..._ Amberle searches for the right word. _Were we just...hugged?_

 **Hugged?** It is amused. **Hardly.**

_I could have sworn we were._

Its amusement fades, to be replaced by something unreadable. If Amberle did not know better, she would have assumed it to be wariness.

 **How?** It asks. She knows what it means.

 _I felt it,_ she replies. The voices crowd around her to listen as she continues, _I felt someone. Quite close to me. They were...afraid. I wanted to protect them._

It was true. The dark was built for distance, but- _I felt someone close to me,_ Amberle insisted _, I did._

There is a moment of hesitation. Then It replies, **Yes, you did.** She smiles. It thinks, **And no longer you shall.**

 _Oh._ She is not surprised, but bewildered. Her smile falls. _But-_

 **You will work on severing any remaining connections with the mortal realm,** It commands, with a brusqueness to It she hasn't heard in a long time. **It is essential for our coexistence.**

She doesn't understand the terms of their coexistence, but lets go of her curiosity in favour of asking, _knowing someone hugged me is connecting with the mortal realm?_

**Yes.**

_Oh. I’m sorry._

**Do not connect again.**

She nods. (Or, attempts to). It falls silent; most likely turning its attentions back to a more important task at hand; but she cannot resist asking one final question.

_...May I ask who it was? Who hugged me?_

It pauses, and for a brief while Amberle is still and small and unsure. Inexplicably, she finds herself wondering if It will not answer her this time. Perhaps she went too far. She should really not have opened her mouth at all-

 **The rover girl’s arms were around you,** the Ellcrys thinks to her finally, and leaves Amberle in silence.

 

___

 

Eretria struggled out of the Ellcrys’ harsh embrace the moment the world stopped spinning. Which is to say that, once they'd stopped, she spent about ten extra seconds clinging to Amberle’s body in a daze- only a patronising comment from the Ellcrys had managed to force her off. She then tripped, fell, and vomited. Into a river. A fucking _cold_ river.

And, with perfect timing as usual, Wil chose that moment to appear. Eretria glanced miserably up at the sound of horse’s hooves, just in time to see his eyes widen as he betook the scene before him. Eretria was sprawled in a mercifully shallow section of the riverbank, gagging on vomit. The Ellcrys stood just behind her, lip was curled in distaste as it smoothed its hands across its rumpled clothes- and, embarrassingly, the evident bite marks splayed over its neck.

“Um,” He said uncertainly. His face was a picture of utter confusion, which Eretria might have found comical if she didn't feel like curling up into a ball and dying. “Eretria, do you...need help?”

 _No._ Not from him. She spat weakly in his direction by way of answer.

“Okay. I'll just, uh, tie up my horse then.” He retreated the way he’d come.

The Ellcrys sniffed. It brushed a swift finger across one of the marks Eretria’s teeth had left on its skin, withdrawing the finger just as quickly. Its nose wrinkled.

“According to my database, the deliverance of hickeys is supposed to evoke pleasure, not pain,” It commented, and Eretria promptly choked on the last of her puke. Bile sprayed the stream. The Ellcrys looked on in vague amusement. 

Eretria hated everything.

“Okay,” She said sometime later, having cleaned up and changed into a fresh set of Wil’s spare clothes (grudingly. She hadn’t _wanted_ to accept any free handouts from him after he let her get beat up, but it was that or nothing because the Ellcrys wasn't inclined to share), “Anybody gonna tell me where the fuck I’ve been dragged to?”

“You'll find out soon,” The Ellcrys told her curtly. It’s footsteps sped up, which probably wasn't even possible to do while still walking, and Eretria had to break into a jog to keep up with it, bruised legs complaining fiercely. Wil, who could match the new pace just fine (damn tall people and their long legs) shot her a concerned glance. She scowled breathlessly at him.

They “walked” a while longer along the riverbank until the Ellcrys stopped them with a brisk “Stay here,” and disappeared up ahead. Eretria sank to a crouch, breathing hard. Bitter blood burnt at the back of her throat.

“You okay?” Wil asked, one hand landing on her shoulder. She threw him off.

“Fine,” She snarled.

“Sure? It looks like the cut on your ankle might've reopened-“

“Where are we going anyway?” Eretria cut in. Miraculously, the diversion worked. Wil’s squint slipped off her injuries and fell to the ground. He adopted the constipated expression Eretria had come to recognise as Wil's "thinking" face.

“The prophecy says we need to find talismans,” He told her. “Two from the beginning, two from the middle, two from the end- each one dear to who the Ellcrys figured is Amberle- so, you know, I thought maybe since you and me are needed to find them, it must be something to do with our connection to Amberle, right?”

Eretria wasn't really following, but she nodded anyway. Wil continued, “Maybe the beginning, maybe that's when we were first connected with Amberle. So to find the talismans-”

The Ellcrys appeared in the blink of an eye beside them and he startled, mouth closing. Eretria glared up at it from her crouching position.

“Our surroundings are free of possible dangers to humans.” It looked to Wil. “Show me the spot.”

The blonde nodded, quickly as a well-trained dog would heed an order from its master. He turned on his heel and headed in the direction of the distant waterfall. The obedience of the action made Eretria nauseous; she took her time getting up before following, just to show the Ellcrys she made her own choices.

(Not that it noticed, and she had to run to catch up).

Within minutes the trees gave way to grass and rocks. Eretria picked through the tussocks, cursing Wil’s long legs and the Ellcrys’ magic traveling powers every time the wiry blades tangled round her shins. “Grasslands are perfect for ambushes, you know,” She told the pair forging along beside her.

They gave no sign they'd heard. In fact, they seemed to speed up; and Wil made no offer to help Eretria (not that she cared). Wil and the Ellcrys marched easily through the grass, and Eretria was left floundering behind them, aiming frustrated kicks at any tangle of grass that got a little too friendly with her legs.

When they finally stopped atop the head of a grassy slope (or, Wil and the Ellcrys stopped; Eretria staggered to an ungraceful halt a few paces behind, breathing hard) they were faced with the waterfall.

The slope of the hill curved shallowly into the banks of the modest riverhole, contrasting sharply against the small rugged cliff that appeared to hide the source of the waterfall. It was a modest waterfall, clean and quiet. The weird thing; the only thing out of place; was that the distant crash of water, that Eretria had before assumed was the waterfall, was much louder and very much not coming from the pathetic excuse of a waterfall ahead of them. It rumbled in the grass beneath her feet. Eretria frowned.

“What’s that noise-” She tried to ask, but in the same moment, Wil dropped to his knees.

Not slowly. It wasn't a purposeful drop. No, it was more like a buckle of his knees. A sudden collapsion of the bones there, like he'd been shot through with an arrow.

Eretria skidded to her knees in front of him, quicker than she could think, quick as instinct, quicker even, forgetting all about the odd not-waterfall rumble at her friend’s collapse. She shook him. “Wil? What the fuck?” His eyes were glazed. Terror gripped her. “Where are you hit?” She gripped his shoulders, “Wil?!” Had he been shot?

Her eyes flickered over his body- no blood, but it could be spreading beneath his clothes- no visible arrow- and then she whipped her head around, were they in the grass? The rocks? Eretria drew her knife, a flash of movement caught her eye, she threw-

And the Ellcrys snatched it right out of the air.

“Now now,” It chided her, “Do not murder without reason.”

Eretria, already patting her pockets for another knife, gaped at it. “What the fuck?”

There was another flash of movement in the corner of her eye. She spun on her knees to dodge any possible projectiles, just narrowly missing falling on Wil as she did so. “We’re under attack!” She yelled at it. The grass offered some cover, but not enough, and with the Ellcrys standing straight up like a goddamn...well, tree, they were sitting ducks. Which meant Eretria had to attack first.

“Calm yourself,” The Ellcrys tried, but Eretria wasn't listening. Damn! She’d only had Wil’s spare knife on her! Her stomach lurched, but the glint of metal on Wil’s belt tempered it; she wrestled the dagger free, and liquid adrenaline lined up her next shot as she drew back her arm and searched for a target- any target-

“Eretria, stop!”

Eretria froze.

They were still very much in the middle of a combat zone, and Eretria froze.

“Eretria, look at me.” The Ellcrys’ boot took a step toward her. There was a dry crunch of grass like breaking bone. 

“Please,” The girlish voice added. It was a command; but somehow, also a plea.

Eretria was helpless to that voice.

She raised her head.

Amberle’s face looked down at her with brown, brown eyes.

“Amberle,” Eretria breathed. To her horror, she felt tears prick at her own eyes. “What are you-”

“You need to drop the knife, Eretria,” The elvish girl said softly.

Obediently Eretria complied. The blade disappeared into the grass. Satisfied, Amberle nodded. Her nod was gentle, pleased; perhaps a little ridiculously regal; everything the Ellcrys was not. Eretria’s empty fingers trembled.

For a moment the two just stared at each other.

“Long time no see,” Eretria finally choked out. Amberle’s lips turned up at that, and  _demons_ with the wind in her hair and the sun behind her she was just so _Amberle,_ and the elvish girl finally looked like she belonged to her body and it was so _beautiful_ that Eretria might actually do something stupid like reach out or-

And then Wil stirred.

And then Amberle blinked and she was gone.

And then there were blank, blank green eyes in her place.

“Stand down,” The Ellcrys commanded. “You're not under attack.’

Eretria slumped back on her knees.

Screwed her eyes tightly shut.

The world rushed in through her ears and she breathed and breathed and breathed.

___

  
“It's alright, I did too,” Wil reassured her not five minutes later.

“I swear on your fucking elfstones I saw her,” Eretria hissed through gritted teeth, “I did.”

He gave her a look like broken glass. Shiny. Shattered. “It wasn't real.”

“Yeah well, maybe not for _you-“_

“Halt your _arguing,”_ The Ellcrys snapped at the two of them with Amberle’s sharp snarl, and both Eretria and Wil flinched. “By my calculations it was a flashback induced by the power of the talisman, which required you to relive the memory that created the talisman itself.”

“I don't care about your calculations,” Eretria spat back. For some reason her voice had a frustratingly frail edge to it. It didn't matter, though, because the Ellcrys barrelled on like she hadn't spoken at all.

“It is to do with range. Wil, you entered the closeby range of your talisman. Then you relived the moment you first met the prophecy’s subject-”

“Amberle,” The two corrected in unison, Wil quietly, Eretria fiercely.

“The name doesn’t matter,” The Ellcrys replied dismissively. It started to pace, ignoring their twin glares. _“Two from the beginning, two from the middle, two from the end-_ that is referring to talismans created along the way of brief journey you both separately traveled upon, _with the hero whose body to life itself they lend._ The chosen, Amberle as you knew her, is that hero mentioned."

“So...” Wil struggled to find the words. “I knocked myself out because...”

“Because you are within range of one of your talismans. One of the talismans you unknowingly created along your journey with the hero."

He frowned. "What?"

"The close range caused you to physically relive the memory of creating your talisman."

Eretria dared to interrupt their verbal flow with, “What the fuck are our talismans supposed to be?” Suprisingly, Ellcrys frowned at the ground in response instead of Eretria. This was actually pretty lucky, because Amberle’s mortal, smiling face was still locked between the rover girl’s eyelashes and to see that pretty elvish face contorting into hatred now could perhaps be damaging enough to-

“Not enough data has been collected,” The Ellcrys said. “But, _assuming this is a physical talisman,_ it should be a tangible object that means something to the prophecy’s subject. You both will individually relive the memory as an attempt to find the talisman in the memory’s scenery.”

Wil nodded distantly. “The rock,” He mumbled. “The rock I slipped on, when I first saw her.”

The Ellcrys stopped pacing.

There was a brief moment of quiet.

“So why did I see Amberle too, if it's not my talisman?” Eretria asked. However the immortal tree launched into interrogating the blond boy, sucessfully drowning out her voice.

“Where? What physical features did it possess? Is it nearby?”

Wil led it away. Eretria trailed after the pair, kicking through the long grass with a little more vigor than before.

 

___

 

  
_I just had such an odd dream,_ Amberle says as soon as she wakes up.

The Ellcrys doesn't respond, its attention likely drawn elsewhere, but she imagines the wordless voices all around her murmuring insquisitive replies. She draws her knees up to her chest. (That was, if she had knees. Or a chest.) Conspiratiallyshe whispers to the voices, _I saw Eretria._

 _What was it like? What was she like?_ She imagines the voices asking.

 _She was-_ Amberle pauses to recall. _Oh, she was-_ The scene reappeares in her memory; a wide patch of grassland edged with trees, a bright blue sky, the distant rumble of a waterfall. Eretria, the sunlight haloing her head. The rover girl was disheveled and dressed in clothes that weren't hers; yet somehow inexplicably gorgeous, the way she always was. She had been crouched in fighting position, knives at the ready. Eretria’s wide eyes had met Amberle’s and- _She was...scared._

_Scared?_

Amberle remembers realising there were no enemies to fight. She remembers telling Eretria not to fight the imaginary monsters.

 _Something was wrong,_ She says aloud. Her voice echoes around the void. For the first time since melding with the Ellcrys, she feels troubled.

The voices hum wordlessly in response. They seem vaguely discontented.

And then, suddenly, the Ellcrys arrives with a breathlessness to It that almost upsets gravity.

 **We have found the first talisman,** it informs her forcefully, sending the voices scattering. **The boy located it beneath a tussock.**

Amberle feels approval and relief. She tells the Ellcrys so, but it brushes her off. **Emotions are for the living. Our first goal has been achieved, nothing more.**

Amberle offers a non-committal noise in answer. She wonders if she can still feel emotion.

 **I do not believe you can,** the Ellcrys replies briefly. Then It is continuing, **I must soon divert my attention in order to regain bodily function. Once I have made camp and rested this body, I will return for any information you offer. Do you have urgent advice to provide?**

Amberle is slightly confused. _Advice?_

**On the location of the second talisman. You guided my way to the first.**

_Oh, right._   _I did._ The Ellcrys radiates disapproval at her forgetfulness. _I am sorry. I won't forget about my sacred duty again._

 **You must advise me on how to correctly fulfill this prophecy and defeat Bandon,** It tells her gravely, ignoring her apology. It adds, **_Without making contact with the physical realm, remember._  ** **Otherwise, the Four Lands will cease to exist.**

 _I will,_ She promises. _And I don't have any urgent information._

 **Indeed you will. Very well.** And Amberle thinks it leaves, but then- **You are certain you have no urgent information to provide?**

Amberle does not think about her dream. She doesn't.

 _No,_ she says. The Ellcrys accepts this answer.

After a moment, It thinks, **The girl is convinced she experienced your presence not an hour ago. I suspect it was a side effect of touching the boy whilst he was reliving his talisman memory.**

So Eretria had seen Amberle. In the mortal realm. If Amberle still had ownership over her body, it would twitch. It would fidget.

**Do you have any additional information related to this?**

She does not think. She speaks. For a reason she can't quite place, Amberle lies to the Ellcrys.

 _No,_ she tells It.

And the Ellcrys accepts her lie.

It leaves without another thought. The voices return. Amberle is left to ponder the void, but instead she remembers her dream and she concludes that indeed it wasn't a dream.

It was real.

And she realises why she lied.

Amberle remembers the fearful look in Eretria’s eyes and realises,

(privately- not to the voices or the Ellcrys or anything else but herself, she realises)

_Something’s wrong. I'm getting out of here._

 

___

 

“Remind me again why I saw her,” Eretria grumbled through a piece of dried meat.

Wil didn't even offer a shrug. His focus was utterly fixed on the rock in his hands. “Apparently it was a side effect of touching me,” He muttered.

“The power of the relived memory induced by the talisman was transferred by physical contact,” The Ellcrys supplied. It clicked its fingers; in response, the campfire leapt a little higher. “Does your shrunken brain not comprehend?”

“I've decided to believe everything you tell me is bullshit,” Eretria said sweetly.

The Ellcrys levelled her with an icy stare. “You are a child.”

“Am I?” She met its gaze head-on. Purposefully she let her eyes flicker over Amberle’s shadowy form. The princess sure as hell wasn't prepubescent, but she wasn't entirely a woman either. Amberle was Eretria’s age. “Looks like you are too.”

“Do not _mock_ me.” Eretria raised an eyebrow.

“Touchy about being young, huh?”

The Ellcrys stood. The movement upset Wil on the log beside it (who flinched more out of instinct than awareness, because he was too fixated on his precious talisman to notice anything around him). “I am _thousands_ of years old, “ It spat. “I have existed since your race was on the brink of extinction. The elves created me to rid the Four Lands of demons- I am the _sole_ thing keeping your petty mortal world from being overrun!"

Its eerie eyes flashed dangerously. A controlled fury had settled onto its face; the expression was so frighteningly unlike its usual blank stare that Eretria, despite herself, shuffled backward. “You will _not_ disrespect me by comparing my existence to this-“ It stamped a quick, powerful foot, like a restless horse would its hoof, “This _useless, infantile, mortal_ form.”

The Ellcrys let its words hang in the air.

Eretria finally swallowed her chewed meat.

“Okay, whatever.” She cursed the traitorous wobble in her voice. “I get it.”

The Ellcrys’ face resumed its normal, slightly less terrifying expression. It spun on its heel. Without another word it begun to march off into the tree cover- presumably, to take watch. However, because Eretria could never resist pissing the bigger guy off, she added, “Go cool off!”

At her daring words the Ellcrys halted. It was unnervingly still, like a wolf waiting to pounce, and Eretria’s day-old bruises tingled in anticipation. Eretria almost _wanted_ it to fight her. Since her Amberle sighting, she’d had too much reckless energy to know what to do with.

But after a pause, slightly disappointingly, the Ellcrys only walked off into the shadows.

Eretria breathed.

Wil continued to examine his rock.

And the fire winked out.

“Hey!” She yelled, “Put that back!”

It didn't come back. She could almost feel the Ellcrys’ departing satisfaction.

 

___

 

Eretria couldn't sleep.

It was pitch black. The weird distant roaring hadn't stopped. Thanks to the Ellcrys and the stupid magic fire (or lack of it), it was fucking _freezing._

And to top it all off, Wil would not stop muttering.

He muttered the same word. Over and over. Ceaselessly. She didn't even know if he was awake or not anymore. The boy had fallen asleep on his log, cradling the rock; he hadn't even repsonded when she'd draped a blanket over his back. Now Eretria lay awake in the tent, listening to the _annoying_ lamenting that could be heard clear across the clearing and a sturdy layer of tent fabric.

“Amberle,” Wil muttered once more. And then, trailing off brokenly, _“Amberle...”_

Eretria clapped her palms over her ears. “Amberle,” Wil groaned again, and began a fervent chant of “Amberle! Amberle!” that made Eretria grind her teeth in frustration

She threw her face closer to the fabric. “One more time, Short Tips, and I'll slit your vocal cords!”

He paused. Eretria huffed out a sigh of relief, rolled onto her side and closed her eyes. The night crickets resumed their song.

And then Wil let out a shout- it sounded more like a plea- “Amberle!”

Eretria lunged to her feet. She stumbled through the tent flap, stomped past Wil and was out of the clearing before the boy could utter another word. She didn't pay attention to where she was going. She just had to get _away._

Away from that incessant name-chanting that itched and tore at her like a dog with a bone. Away from Wil's breaking voice. She stormed through the damp grass, barely noticing the weak tangle of it round her feet.

Inevitably, she found herself drawing closer to the roaring sound. Eretria would be usually wary of following weird noises in the dark, but tonight she couldn't think past the itch of Amberle’s name. It pounded painfully in her head. Blindly, she swatted at an invasive branch, stumbled up a hill, through a thatch of tangled grass; her feet were bare and the ground was cold and she couldn't _see._ The bushland warped and blurred about her, ghostlike.

She followed the crashing not-waterfall noise. It felt like the only real noise in the world-

The bushes gave way. Eretria’s feet sunk into sand.

She stilled.

The itch of Amberle’s name subsided.

Before her were the shores of what seemed to be an enormous lake. Sweeping, shadowy swathes of sand stretched out from her feet, the end disappearing into the horizon. Overhead the sky was starry and vast. The waning moon was bright; its light dallied and danced across the blank black body of water that boomed and roared endlessly as waves butted their heads into some distant, invisible boundary.

 _That_ was the source of the roaring noise.

 _Ocean,_ Eretria thought. _This must be ocean._

She'd never seen the ocean, but she'd heard stories about it. Old Jeff, the only Rover Eretria had ever known to have grey hair, had often regaled the camp often with tales of ocean. Endless water, he’d bellow, calloused hands clinging to his rum bottle. It reached further than the eye could see! You could drown an army in it, that's for damn sure.

Ha! Old Jeff, Someone would spit, You're crazy.

To demons I'm not! I swear it on your bloody king Eventine!

The grown-ups would walk off muttering at this point, but a younger Eretria hadn't yet grasped the concept of dismissive exasperation. She remembers staying crouched by Old Jeff’s boots all through his vaguest ramblings, only scurrying off to find wood to tend the fire. Eretria had been hungry for the chance to hear someone say something other than “on your feet, vermin,” “ if I was your dad I would’ve sold you too, you useless brat,” or perhaps the worst, “ah, this one’s begging for it ain't she? c’mere, lemme teach you a thing or two.” Old Jeff never laid a hand on her. He was usually too drunk and lost in his own talk to notice the scrawny, silent girl hovering around him, which was just fine.

(Rover men respected the man with the grey streak in his hair, which meant at Old Jeff’s feet, Eretria was safe.)

Eretria sniffed. The air smelt like cold wind and salt.

Salt, Old Jeff had said. What a smell! Who decided to put salt in the ocean? A damn fool, that's for sure.

 _It doesn't smell that bad,_ Eretria ruminated. She took a step forward, then another, savouring the slow run of sand over her toes. _More like fried river trout than anything._

She stopped at the edge of the water, where the salt smell was fierce and the ceaseless roar was loud. Eretria didn't dare touch the ocean- the _ocean,_ so mythical and bizzarely big- but her eyes roamed its black surface. She didn't know what she looking for, if anything at all.

The great voidlike emptiness stared at her, and Eretria stared back. It roared at her.

The sound drowned out the itchy echo of Wil chanting Amberle’s name.

Once, Eretria thought without thinking, once. I will say her name once.

Alone in camp, Wil Ohlmsford clutched his talisman to his chest. He uttered the name of his lover like a prayer, like a lament, like a plea and a cry and a howl of grief all at once; over, and over, and over again. The loud, repeated professment of his love and loss rung through the forest. It ripped open the silence again and again and _again_ like a cruel knife would a wound, stumbling over itself like an injured animal. The darkness shattered itself on a sky of jagged leaves, dousing the heartbroken boy in a chaotic mess of shadow.

 _Amberle,_ Wil sobbed. He curled in on himself. _Amberle, Amberle, Amberle._

The night echoed the name back to him; a madman’s shadow, that night was.

The same night watched a girl stand at edge of the ocean, toes curled in the sand, solemn and shivering in her thin undershirt. It watched from afar as she gathered her thoughts. The night watched her let the word slip free once; as a surrender. As a release.

The watery void welcomed the word. The wind carried it away.

The night said nothing. A wisewoman’s shadow, it was.

“Amberle,” Eretria breathed,

once,

and that was all.

And that was all it took.

“Eretria,” A voice breathed back.

The rovergirl turned her head. There, standing with feet in the water, was the Ellcrys-

except not the Ellcrys. This Ellcrys’ shoulders were looser, this Ellcrys’ hands were fluttering at its sides and most notably this Ellcrys had eyes that glinted brown, brown, brown in the sparse moonlight.

Everything was too surreal. Eretria didn't move. “This is another vision, isn't it?”

The not-Ellcrys smiled. It wasn't cruel, nor sharp nor wicked in any way. Rather, it was an emboldened burst of a beam, unapologetically wide, the type of smile only fools and the fearless could manage to pull off. It was suddenly blindingly, achingly evident exactly who stood before Eretria.

“No,” The girl replied. “I’m here.” She reached out like she was going to touch Eretria, but stopped. Her hand hung in the space between them. “You can touch me.”

Eretria kept on not moving and Amberle’s hand fell. Her face did, too. There was a little duck of the princess’ chin; an unsure flick of her eyes; and _damn it to the Forbidding_ Eretria hadn't realised how much she'd missed that stupid crestfallen expression. Any expression of Amberle’s, really that didn't have terrible green eyes added to it.

She was pulling Amberle into a hug before either of them had time to realise it.

There was an awkward knock of elbows and (embarrassingly) Eretria had to lurch up onto her tiptoes for better reach, but then there were arms fitted snugly around her and there was a contended sigh in her ear and Eretria had to scrunch up her face against Amberle’s shoulder because there was something hot struggling to escape from her throat, or her eyes maybe.

The two of them stayed like that for a moment. And perhaps a few moments more than was strictly necessary. Okay, a good few moments.

And then they broke apart. Amberle reached out to tuck a strand of Eretria’s bedhead behind her rounded human ear, and the moonlight looked especially soft on the elf’s face right then which was a little _alarmingly_ mesmerising so Eretria interrupted the subdued noise of the ocean with a sharp “What are you doing here?”

Amberle blinked. “Visiting you, of course.”

“Bullshit,” Eretria replied. “Somehow you got control of your body back, just to come here,” She gestured to the stretch of sand, the sky, the trees where beyond Wil was curled up alone. “Why now? What for?”

When the other girl didn't reply, Eretria continued, “Let me guess, a mission? A prophecy? Gonna send me on a secret side-quest, oh all-knowing princess?” She knew she sounded bitter. It just sucked that even in the afterlife, Amberle could still find a way to order her around.

Amberle seemed to be struggling to formulate a response. Finally she said, “I wanted to see you. To make sure you were safe.”

Eretria scoffed (although a traitorous part of her leapt at the elf’s words). “Sure. And?”

“And nothing. You were right, Wil’s talisman didn't give you flashbacks, I was real. I saw you fighting off enemies that weren't there. I wanted to check if you were okay.”

Eretria scanned Amberle’s features. She saw no trace of dishonesty. Absolutely none.

The rover girl threw back her head and laughed.

And laughed, and laughed, and laughed.

Amberle watched her, concern creeping over her stupid _honest_ face. She opened her mouth to say something, but through her laughter Eretria gasped out, “You- to make sure- I was safe?”

“Yes,” Amberle said simply.

Eretria howled.

She hunched over under the weight of her hysteria. Her eyes stung, so she shut them tight.

“And you thought I was safe- the rest of the time?” She managed. “Since you left me at Seahaven to fight off the trolls?”

There was the sound of shuffling feet. “I suppose, I mean, this was the only time I’ve sensed you were in danger-”

“And you couldn't have _checked if I was safe_ in the slave mine?”

From the way Amberle went instantly, deathly silent, Eretria could tell the words had hit her hard. The rover girl opened her eyes. Above her Amberle towered, a skyscraper of frozen girl.

Amberle elongated the words as if in disbelief, as though wasn't sure they were supposed to be real, “Slave...mine?”

 _“Troll_ slave mine.” Eretria straightened. “For three months. Alone.” Amberle’s mouth fell open, but no words came out. Clenching her fists, Eretria barrelled on. “Three months, Amberle! The Ellcrys knew I was there. But it didn't do anything to help, not a thing, because _you_ told it I could take care of myself.”

“I didn't-” Amberle stammered, “I didn't know, I'm so sorry-“

"And you _beat me up,_ Amberle," Eretria hissed, remembering the bruises on her body. She thrust her arms out toward the other girl, where the bandages could easily be seen. "The Ellcrys beat me up for talking back."

Amberle's gaze, once it'd given Eretria's body a onceover, looked horrified. Utterly, completely horrified. 

“You only ever need me for your quests,” Eretria seethed. “For when the world needs saving. But what about me, huh? Did you ever care if _I_ needed saving?”

If the elf hadn't looked devastated before, she definitely looked it now. _“Eretria,”_ She whispered, voice cracking and breaking like the fucking waves at their feet, “I do care.”

The words shook the universe and there were tears in Amberle’s eyes threatening to spill over and Eretria took a step back. And another. And then another.

“You're a fucking liar, Elessedil,” She growled.

Amberle stepped forward. “I’m not lying,” She promised, but it sounded like a plead.

Eretria’s anger was ablaze inside her. It was hot and hard and painful; not vulnerable. It wasn't the type of anger that would make her cry. She'd break down later, sure, but right then Eretria felt like someone who’d been beat up too many times. She felt like her bruised skin was plated with armour. She felt untouchable. She felt _angry._

So the rover shook her head. “The Ellcrys has told us all about this stupid prophecy. If you don't have anything to add, leave.” She fixed Amberle with a heavy, careless look. “I'm sick of you.”

The princess parted her lips. Then she closed them again.

Her eyes remained stubbornly brown.

Eretria scowled. “Don't follow me.”

With that she marched off back to camp and into the madman’s night, leaving Amberle standing by herself at the edge of the ocean.

As instructed, Amberle didn't follow her.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I HAVE NOT UPDATED FOR MONTHS AND I HAVE NO EXCUSE. Life did the thing. Stuff happened. I maybe slightly forgot about Shannara a little bit. Idk.
> 
> HOWEVER those months were not idle- while I procrastinated working on Onward (which was a LOT) I wrote some extensive, kind of ridiculous princessrover AU oneshots. Keep your eyes out for those; I should be posting some soon.
> 
> No, I have not watched Season Two yet, but I will once my exams are over. Would you guys like for me to write some Lyetria? I'm a Princessrover stan obviously, but from what I've heard, the new Eretria ship is pretty cute. 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed this chapter!

**Author's Note:**

> What do you guys want to see happen next? Post your ideas in the comments!
> 
> (psst also leave a kudos if you enjoyed because writers thrive off/feed on other people's satisfaction, we're kinda like vampires :P)


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